(Wherein Beth and Daryl don't leave the funeral home and it becomes a safe haven)

Daryl knew what was happening much sooner than Beth did. He wasn't sure if it had started at the prison or while they were on the road, but with everything happening, it wasn't important, it wasn't a big deal, and it sure as hell wasn't noticeable, at least until it was.

1

He noticed it the first time the second week that they were in funeral home. They had moved another coffin to the big room, where Daryl and slept that first night in what he claimed to be the most comfortable bed he'd had in ages. He had woken up to her moans in the middle of the night, automatically reaching for his crossbow, thinking she was a walker at first.

At first he thought it was a nightmare, and he went to wake her. He had taken up the job of protector, whether from walkers or nightmares. But as he went to reach for her she moaned once more and her hand strayed from its place on her stomach to the apex of her thighs and her back arched when her hand moved against herself.

"Jesus." He had said taking a step back, and groaned at the unmistakable hardening of his pants.

2

The second time he noticed it was one week later. They had just returned from a run with brand new clothes and other supplies. He turned the other way as she slipped on new jeans and underthings. Daryl couldn't help the little smirk on his face as he heard her struggling with the jeans. It sounded like they were a little too small.

"I'm good," She had said as she laid on the floor in exhaustion. The run was bloody, messy, and long. Daryl was exhausted too, and laid down next to her.

Their shoulders brushed, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Beth shiver. That wasn't a big deal, but when she went to sit up, she gasped. The tightness of the jeans putting pressure on the little pleasure button, he knew she had just waiting to be explored.

Daryl cussed in his head, and stood up to walk away saying something about getting something to eat.

3

The third time he noticed was when he caught her staring at her naked body in the mirror, examining her body. Touching her breasts and hardening her own nipples. He had to get away so he could take care of a little problem she had caused. It was something he hadn't had to do in a long time. Something he hadn't had time for or even the desire to.

Jesus. He thought as his hand slipped around his cock. He groaned at the contact. He wanted more than just his hands. Daryl closed his eyes, and even though he knew it was wrong, imagined plunging himself into Beth's sweet, and wet center. Imagining how tight she would be, how she would grab his shoulder, scratch his back and moan his name in ecstasy.

He came quickly whispering her name, ruining a new shirt they had gathered on the run.

4

The fourth time that he noticed he also realized that she knew what was happening to her. She was horny as all hell. And she knew what she was doing to him.

It was the middle of the night, and she had just awoken from another one of her dreams. Daryl knew this, because he had listened to them. Growing harder with each little moan and whimper that Beth had made.

She sat up, rustled a little bit, and then, what Daryl was not expecting, got up and walked over to his coffin.

"Daryl, you have to help me." She said. Daryl was confused and sat up quickly wondering what was wrong.

"I.." She started and tried to get her mouth to work. "Will you stand up?"

Still unsure what was going on, Daryl stood up. His erection pressed more urgently against him when he realized she was wearing one of those flimsy nightgowns she had insisted about getting on their run, claiming that nights were just too hot.

"What the hell is wrong?" Daryl said gruffly, wanting to climb back in his coffin before Beth noticed the hard ridge in his pants.

Instead of answering with her words, she grabbed Daryl's hand and pulled it under her nightgown. She pulled his hand flush against her, leading his finger down to her wet center. Daryl groaned out load when he felt how wet she was. Her warm liquid already covering the inside of her thighs. His cock stood at attention at that, harder than it had even been before.

Beth mewed and lent on her elbows against the coffin, pushing herself even more against Daryl's hand. "Please Daryl. Please." And with that Daryl could no longer prevent himself from slipping a finger inside of her.

And God, she was tight around his finger. He slid his finger in and out of her, while his thumb found her clit. Beth moaned his name loudly then, and Daryl lost what little control he had. Pushing her against the coffin, with one hand resting behind her, to keep them both steady.

He was panting, heaving, and he let himself push his erection against her stomach.

She gasped in surprise to find him so hard, but instead of shying away, she reached for him. Wanted to feel his want for her. She wanted to make him see that she wasn't just a little girl. She wanted him to fuck her.

She looked at him then, with his cock still in her hand. "Kiss me, Daryl Dixon." His hand froze, and he pulled his hand away, Beth groaning as he did. Daryl smirked and nodded his head.

Beth closed her eyes and leaned forward, but she didn't find his lips. Instead she gasped in surprise and gripped the coffin to steady herself as she felt his lips graze her upper thighs. He kissed her up and around her center, without actually giving her the relief that she needed.

"Daryl." Beth groaned. Wanting to say more, wanting to beg him to do more, but all she could say was his name.

And then his mouth was on her so tight and wonderful and Beth was pretty sure she squeaked. His tongue teased her entrance and then was sucking on her clit with such intensity Beth thought she was going to fall over. Without warning Beth felt this sensation wash over her. An intense tingling that started in her center and spread out to every part of her body. She was so close. So close. It was building so quickly.

And then without even knowing it was happening, she was cumming, and she had to stop herself from screaming in pleasure by throwing her hand over her mouth. For the first time she looked down at Daryl sitting on his knees.

He was smiling. Not smirking as he normally did. Beth smiled back at him, and sank to the ground on her shaking post-orgasmic legs.

"Thank you." Beth said quietly.

"Anytime Blondie." Was his gruff response.

5

The fifth time that it happened was the following morning on the three month anniversary of living in the funeral home. And that was when Daryl realized that he was wrong. She wasn't just horny as hell; she was in love with him.

And what she had seen much sooner than he had was that he was in love with her too. It wasn't how he expected to find out, both that he was in love with her and she was in love with him, but then again how could he have expected it.

The morning wasn't awkward. He was expecting it to be awkward. He thought he had ruined everything with what he did, what they did. But she smiled at him and made a joke about their anniversary. And Daryl smiled, because he realized that for the first time since the prison, he felt home.

"So," Beth started out. "We get to do that again right?"

Daryl was so taken aback that he laughed. He pulled her into a hug and without even realizing it was his intention, he kissed her. On the lips this time.

It wasn't passionate and wild filled with the I-need-you-now urgency. It was gentle and sweet and loving. And Daryl didn't intend to say it, just like he didn't intend to kiss her, just like he didn't mean to settle down in this funeral home, but he said, "I love you, Beth." Because that's what felt right and that's what his gut told him to do.

"It's about damn time Daryl Dixon. I've been dropping signs for months." Beth smiled into their next kiss.