If Merle Dixon is trouble spelt with a capital 'T', then Beth Greene honestly does not know where to even begin when it comes to his younger brother, Daryl.

Word about the pair of them has, over the last twenty years or so that she has lived with her family in this town, reached her ears on quite a number of occasions. Although Beth admittedly doesn't know all that much about the brothers, she feels as though she still somehow knows enough.

And it's strange, because until this point in time, Beth has never actually met either one of the Dixon brother's before. Goodness, she's never actually even seen the younger of the two in the flesh before - heard things; yes, of course, and had seen the odd picture here and there, but she has never actually looked at him in person with her own two eyes. There has been the odd occasion where the older one - Merle - had entered the little bakery that she worked at part-time in the centre of town alongside her studies, but that had only ever been briefly, and it had only ever been whenever he had been with a woman (never the same woman twice, though).

Come to think of it, he never actually appeared to purchase any of the products for himself, either.

Still, though, Beth just happens to know things about the two of them from general gossip and rumours that used to spin around her school and now spin around her work, too. It isn't as though the subject itself has ever actually peaked her interest, really. After all, it seems as though the majority of the members of the gang that both of the brother's run are much older than her and her peers, anyway; what, with Merle being somewhere between the age of forty and fifty and Daryl possibly being in his late twenties, but most likely early thirties.

It's just not her type of scene; not her crowd, not her idea of fun, and so even when all of her friends have been whispering and giggling about the 'club', as they call it, Beth's just never really cared. And yet, she knows enough about them - knows probably as much as the rest of the people in this small town do - to feel as though she should have at least met them before.

What she has been told about the brothers and the gang - or 'club' - itself isn't anything concrete, or set in stone, or even definitely true (which is the trouble with small towns - you never know what to believe).

But by now, Beth knows that the two of them are part of a large enough biker gang that practically runs this small Georgia town. Merle is known as being the President and Daryl is his right-hand man (or at least something along those vague lines, anyway, because the blonde won't pretend that she even has the slightest clue about how these sorts of things work, except from what she has seen on TV-shows and movies).

She also knows that they are both currently employed at the only garage in town (because really, who would honestly want to open up a rival business against a gang that is ran by Merle Dixon?) along with the rest of the members of their 'crew' - brothers, she's heard that they call each other.

Family.

And - despite the fact that she has never met either one of them before - Beth knows that they are bad news. (Young and perhaps slightly naive, Beth refuses to honestly believe that the brothers are bad people, because she cannot make that judgement without knowing them personally; but she knows that they are bad news.)

But even so, none of this prior knowledge that she has acquired about the brothers and their club stops her from looking their way now, as she walks through the dimly-lit dive bar that she would never even offer a second glance to in any other circumstance bar this one. Her light blue eyes are wider than usual as she peers around the narrow space that seems to drag on and on and on in search for her father, Hershel, who - according to the bartender who called her home phone (he found it in the directory, apparently) - is in a bad way and needs to be taken home immediately.

The actual bar table is long and wide and Beth spots her father as soon as she catches sight of it. He's perched on one of the long stools, hunched over a glass - the clear liquid in it, she presumes, is water, not vodka - with a solemn expression on his face. Both of the seats that are placed on either side of him are empty and, as difficult as this is for Beth every time that she has to do this anyway, the sight of that causes her to hurt a little bit more because for the first time in a long time, she comes to realise just how truly lonely her father is.

In the past, circumstances in their lives have been very different, to say the least. Hershel Greene is a different sort of drunk every time that he gets drunk, and although he's never once been violent towards her, Beth knows that he has been in the past - to other people, that is. Usually, her father is sat with one or two friends - laughing and slurring and behaving more like a young man of her own age as opposed to the older man (who is approaching retirement) that he actually is, pouting when his youngest daughter comes to drag him away from the stool at the bar.

But tonight, it isn't like that at all. Tonight, the veterinarian looks so sad and so broken that it feels as though Beth's own heart has broken into pieces right inside of her chest. Standing completely still, just a few steps away from him (but not near close enough so that he has registered her presence or has even recognised her face), Beth feels overcome with the sudden urge to burst into tears, and she cannot help but to curse herself for being so soft to her daddy.

A loud noise distracts her and causes her to flinch, and her wide blue eyes momentarily shoot away from her father, and Beth turns directly towards the group of men who are making a rather big fuss and a hell of a lot of noise from where they are sitting at the opposite side of the bar. The bartender who is serving them - a woman with a ridiculously large cleavage and cropped pigtails - is obviously fighting a smile whilst she concentrates on pouring their drinks, evidently pleased (well, at least a little bit, anyway) with the attention that these men are providing her with.

All of the men - there must be about eight or nine, at least; if not a couple more - are wearing sleeveless leather vests that have a huge symbol stitched onto the back. In the poor light and the general fogginess that seems to have settled inside of this bar, Beth can't really make out the symbol; but she's seen it (and some of these men) enough times to know what it is, who they are, what club they belong to.

Before she can even stop herself from staring at them, Beth feels a set of eyes on her. Unable to stop herself, she turns her head towards the right to look in his direction, and as she stands there - just a few inches away from where her father is sat - Beth knows that the man who is staring directly at her is wondering what on earth someone like her is doing standing in a place like this.

Beth knows it because she has honestly been debating the question herself.

Beth's eyes meet with his, and there they stay, and the first coherent thought that springs to mind is that they are the most beautiful shade of blue she's ever seen.

Whilst it's impossible for her to know for sure, Beth cannot shake the feeling that this man is him. And if this was a fictional story then there is no doubt in her mind that right now, her breath would catch in her throat and her heart would cease in its beating (if only for a fraction of a second) the very moment that their eyes met from across the expanse of space between them.

Beth knows it would be that way because she can feel the electricity that is buzzing between them; that is flickering and twitching and sparking as he looks at her and she looks at him.

It's Daryl, of course - the younger of the two Dixon brother's. If Beth really needed to clarify her guess then she would only have to look down at his vest to see the badge stitched upon it, the one that declares him to be vice-president of the club he and his 'brother's' seem to love so much.

But Beth doesn't have to do that because she just knows. Mostly because she remembers the gossip and the stories and the whispered words said in a longing, flustered tone about how handsome and how rugged and how gorgeous that he was. Even though Beth had never once seen him for herself, after seeing Merle; she had always just assumed that her friends and her peers were completely out of their minds to even think that he was remotely attractive. Figured that he would probably be the spitting image of his older brother (minus a few years, of course), and if she was being honest, Beth had never really understood the fuss behind Merle Dixon, either.

But now that she's here and now that she's really actually looking at him, Beth understands it.

Oh.

It all makes sense now, and even though this moment seems to be carrying on for hours, it has only been a mere few seconds that the two of them have been looking at each other. It's a challenge, a daring game where neither seems to want to look away (and right now, it seems as though Daryl Dixon just might be as equally stubborn as her) and Beth refuses to back down, refuses to give in.

The look that he offers her is darker now, and the man tilts his head down ever so slightly - as though his change in angle might make him appear more intimidating, might force her to swallow down her pride and quickly scurry away.

Maybe he genuinely thinks that it will.

But it doesn't.

So Beth Greene keeps staring right at him; never even blinking, never even moving an inch.

After a second or two more, a hand appears on one of his broad shoulders; and Beth finally blinks at the sight of Daryl turning away from her to face the person who is responsible for clapping him on the back. Beth's light blue eyes take in everything around her and she notes that it's a tall, tanned man who she has definitely seen roaming around before - Caesar, she's sure that he's called - and he's leaning down now to say something into Daryl's ear, probably struggling to be heard over the music that's humming in the background of this dingy place.

When Daryl's eyes drift back towards where she is still stood - even now, frozen to the spot - she still finds his gaze to be intense and powerful, but the spell that had been put on her by his eyes just moments before is now broken and she no longer feels as though everything and everyone around them is frozen in time. From the corner of her eyes, she can see the way in which the tall man is still talking in his ear, and she notices the way in which Daryl jerkily nods his head in understanding.

It is then that Beth moves. Looking away from the man whom she is confident has to be Daryl Dixon, she approaches her father and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, not wanting to startle or upset the older man as she does so. Slowly, her father lifts his head, and when she begins to sob at the sight of her, Beth tries her best to stay strong.

She doesn't cry any more.

Not now that her mama is gone.

The music is still humming in the background of the bar but suddenly, Beth feels a shift in the air around her; and she doesn't have to look in any particular direction to know that near enough everyone in the vicinity is now looking straight at her. It must be a strange sight - Beth, just a tiny slip of a thing, and her father, the complete opposite - and as she wraps an arm around his waist, Hershel instinctively heaves one of his over her shoulders, his bottom lip wobbling along with his legs.

Knowing that everyone is staring at them both just makes her feel angry. Not necessarily bitter or even furious, but it does make her feel angry, and Beth just wants to grunt and kick and shout and yell at them all to look away from her, to tell the crowd that this isn't some sort of show that they have tickets to watch.

But she doesn't do that.

Instead, Beth allows them to watch her as she struggles to walk Hershel Greene out of the dive bar that he had basically been kicked out of. And as she is listening to her father whine about her and how he misses her mother and how he's so sorry, Bethy; Beth finds herself looking up once more, almost craning her neck, in an attempt to meet his eyes.

And, of course, she does.

She finds that he's looking right at her, still. There's no smirk on his face, no sense of surprise or amusement or judgement there like there is on everyone else in the bar. His expression is basically blank, but it doesn't offend her, and it isn't off-putting. Instead, it makes her feel appreciative; makes her feel hopeful, and causes her to think that actually, this man might just be very, very different to the stories that she has heard.

And Beth never believed that Daryl Dixon was a bad person. Bad news, of course, but a bad person - no. How could she have thought something so powerful about a man that she had never met before?

The drive home is mostly a blur, and Beth once again struggles to walk her father up the steps of the farmhouse. Instead of worrying herself over taking him upstairs to bed, Beth guides him towards the living room and watches as he plops himself down onto one of the couches, murmuring nonsense as he closes his bright blue eyes.

A sad smile drifts over her face as she moves his head so that it is tilted to one side. Just in case he is sick in his sleep, she thinks - just to make sure that he doesn't choke, if that was to happen.

(It wouldn't be the first time).

Not even bothering to remove her clothes, Beth falls into her bed with a huff and a sigh. Her head nuzzles against the pillow as her mind helplessly wonders about the handsome man she has just encountered at the bar. Questions begin to form in her mind that have never been there before; questions that have never had any need or want to be there before, questions that don't really have any right to be there, either.

Questions like is he with anyone? and is he in love with someone?

That night, Beth Greene dreams of Daryl Dixon - a man who she has briefly seen, but never even spoken to. She dreams of his deep blue eyes that hold her gaze so intensely; about his biceps that seem impossibly large, about his scruffy stubble and his too-long hair and his lips and his everything. And when she finally wakes up with a throbbing heat between her legs and a flush in her cheeks, Beth Greene realises that last night was the best nights sleep that she has had in a long, long time.