Prompt idea: prank backfires
It started at the prison. Anytime Daryl was within reach and distracted enough, Carol would reach over and tug that red rag out of his back pocket. Of course he caught her the first few times, before she honed her craft and got better at being sneaky.
After the prison, it wasn’t until they’d been settled in at Alexandria for a month before she remembered that game, spotting that red rag swishing slightly as he walked across the porch in front of her. She wondered sometimes if he barely tucked it in like that just to tempt her into yanking it out. She also wondered if that was the same rag that he’d had since she’d met him…or if the original had finally just fallen apart and he’d replaced it with another.
Either way, she was always pulling it out of his pocket.
She got so good at it, that it stopped being fun almost. Almost, because watching him subsequently reach for the rag, find it missing, swat at his pocket, and then curse her name, immediately knowing that it was her behind it…would never not be hilarious.
“How does he get it back every time? Do you just give it to him?” Rosita asked when she caught Carol doing it one afternoon.
Carol shrugged. “I usually just leave it by his crossbow when he’s not looking. He always knows that it’s me.”
Rosita smirked. “I’ve got an idea. A challenge.”
Carol lifted an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Take the rag out of his pocket, like you always do, but then try to stick it in his other back pocket…all without him noticing.” Rosita looked at her smugly.
Carol narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted.”
Rosita nodded to where Daryl hadn’t moved, still standing beside Tara in front of the open engine of the blue car, surveying her work. “Go on then.”
Put on the spot, Carol paused, drew herself up, and put on her game face. She crept back up behind Daryl, waiting for moments when he was making comments to Tara or the woman was asking him a question. Yanking the cloth out was all about speed. Putting it back, she wasn’t so sure about.
She ended up going for stealth instead of speed, and she kept carefully in his blind spot, starting to slide the corner of the rag into his other back pocket. Without warning, Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Carol couldn’t withdraw fast enough. Her hand collided with his backside. Instead of jumping or yelling angrily, Daryl simply twisted around and looked at her.
Carol stood there, frozen, with one hand completely cupped around one buttock. She’d dropped the rag on the ground. She slowly took her hand back, and his expression was deadpan.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Carol stuttered and straightened. His nonchalance was wrongfooting. She wasn’t sure why, she’d done a lot more invasive things to him in the bedroom than grab his ass. But this wasn’t the bedroom. This was public in the middle of the day.
“Just…making sure it was still there,” she rambled, making a hasty retreat.
Daryl snorted and snatched up the rag, stuffing it back into his pocket. Beside him, Tara snickered and watched Carol flee.
“She touched the butt,” Tara giggled.
Daryl looked at her flatly.
She sighed. “It’s from a movie–”
“I know what it’s from.” He pointed for her to get back to the engine.