The first time Beth seemed to flirt with him, Rick brushed the moment off as his imagination. Or that she was young, feeling a touch of hero worship, and not seriously fantasizing about an old man, which was how Rick viewed himself these days.

Normally if Beth got up before him, she'd stand outside his cell, and softly call his name before coming in to get Judy. On that first morning he suspected her of flirting, he'd been so exhausted, haunted by Lori torturing his dreams with all the things left unsaid, that he hadn't responded to her call. He'd cried during the night, if his tight, burning eyes were any indication, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, the tight muscles of his neck aching with stiffness.

Her sweet voice came first, and as he laid there, it seemed like her song was for him, coiling into the aching chambers of his heart.

"Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.

No one can find the rewind button, boys,

So cradle your head in your hands,

And breathe... just breathe,

Oh breathe, just breathe..."

For a moment he did just that, just breathed, until his eyes met Beth's shapely little bottom, bent over Judy's crib. A part of his mind, the part south that was flooded with the morning blood of his hard-on, briefly wished that was his bottom to take, and he could pull her into bed with him and set loose the demons eating at his mind by pounding into soft, hot flesh. Immediately creeped out by himself, this was everyone's sweet Beth whose bottom he was fantasizing about after all, he scrubbed his eyes with his fists and shoved the thoughts from his mind.

He stood, "Good morning, Beth."

"Good morning, Rick," her bright smile was a nice thing to see at the start of the day and he smiled back at her, then reached out to take Judy from her arms. The baby gurgled up at him, and Rick kissed the soft skin of her forehead.

"Sweet baby Judy," he crooned, rocking her.

"Here," Beth urged, holding out a fresh bottle, and soon Judy was slurping away. The greedy sound made Rick and Beth grin at one another, and for a moment, Rick felt a connection with Beth that he'd only ever felt with Lori, the bond of shared parenthood.

Awkwardly, he turned from Beth, and rolled his stiff neck, dashing the thoughts away. Sure, it made sense he'd see Beth as Judith's mom, but she wasn't, Judy's mom was dead, and all that Rick had left were the words he'd never said.

When Beth's small fingers began the work at the muscles of his neck, Rick wanted to protest, but it felt so damn good as she firmly worked away the knots and aches that he didn't say a word. Standing there holding Judy and feeling the stress disappear was one of the best moments Rick had had in quite a while.

He was in a trance until the sound of Judy sucking air echoed loudly in the cell. Beth's fingers dropped away and they both laughed again as the baby burped loudly and began babbling.

As he turned to hand the baby to Beth, the young woman rested a hand on his bicep, "You're a good father, Rick," as her fingertips traced the muscle for a second before turning to leave the cell.

At the door, she spun back, blond ponytail swinging, "You should show your arms more," and then she was gone, though he could hear her soft voice singing to Judith as she walked away.

Rick glanced down at his arms, then dismissed her words. He had a farm to tend.

...

It became a daily, morning routine, Beth would come in to his cell, sing some bit of a song, always something meaningful to Rick, change Judy's diaper, and then greet Rick good morning. As he fed Judith, Beth's small fingers would work the stiffness from his neck or the tops of his shoulders, and as she left him, she'd always stop at the doorway. Some mornings she'd just run her eyes over him, smile and exit quietly, but others she would share a quote like, "This too shall pass" or "It's always darkest before the dawn".

One morning she'd told him, "Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em," and he knew she was referring to the council meeting the day before, when everyone had pressured him to become the leader again.

Some mornings, though, he was sure her words were flirtatious, "I like the way your hair is curling now" or "Some men should always smile". Other than her heavenly massages while he fed Judith, she was never exactly forward with him, so he didn't think about it too much.

The dreams of Lori stopped eventually, and though he might not have acknowledged it to himself, he often went to sleep with a small smile on his face, knowing morning would soon come.

Judy was their shared delight, and throughout the day, Rick would occasionally seek out Beth to have a moment with his daughter. Judith was growing so quickly, and such a cheerful baby, that Rick loved those moments listening to her babble, rocking her in his arms, or kissing the baby's soft face.

One afternoon when Beth walked down to the garden holding Judy, Rick had another of those shared parenthood connection moments, and his eyes caressed Beth in a way he rarely allowed himself to look at her.

Hershel, who was digging in the dirt beside Rick, spoke quietly, "I always knew Bethie would be a wonderful mother."

"She's amazing," Rick replied before meeting the older man's knowing gaze, "I mean, she's great with Judy."

"She's really too young to be a mother," Hershel's thoughtful expression hardened slightly, "or anything else to a man."

Rick held those wise eyes for a moment, nodded briskly, and stuck his shovel deep into the ground. Hershel had no reason to worry. Rick would never cross that line.

He stopped seeking Beth out during the day and banished any thought of her from his mind. That was never happening, she may be Judy's other parent, but that's all she could ever be to Rick.

...

But the mornings were different. In the mornings the two of them were cocooned in their own little world, where they played some pretend game of house, where he forgot about everything but her sweet smile, their shared love of Judy, and the warmth of their morning routine.

Rick was often awake when she entered, laying on his bunk waiting for her, and it was one of these mornings when he totally screwed up their secret world.

She went straight to Judy, as usual, awakening the baby with a song,

"And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now"

Rick knew she sang for him, often old songs he'd never heard about hard living, faith in God, or strong men. This morning, he felt her words keenly, and when she handed Judith to him, he asked her to sing the rest. As normal, he turned his back to her as she began her massage, and Judy slurped away at her bottle.

"And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

'Cause sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive"

"Again," he requested, and Beth started the song over, "and I'd give up forever to touch you..." her words were a mystery that wrapped around Rick's chest, and her fingers were no longer massaging. Beth Greene was caressing him and Rick simply stood there and let her.

When Rick went to burp Judy, the baby instantly closed her eyes and went back to sleep, like somehow the baby gave them this moment, this pregnant moment where they'd stepped over an imaginary line. Rick laid Judy back in her crib, and as he straightened, Beth's beautiful blue eyes were full of hope. As she twined her arms around his neck and pressed her slight frame to the front of his body, Rick's entire universe seemed to click in place. He bent his head, and when their lips met, both of them sighed. The air around them was flush with promise as their lips met and clung, their tongues gently dancing. Over and over he kissed her, becoming more and more demanding. Passion and need tugged at Rick and his hands stroked downward, shaping her small breasts in his palms, and rubbing soft circles over her nipples with his thumbs.

She gasped and put a hand on his chest, "Slow down, I've never done anything like this before."

Rick pulled away from her, breathing hard, and the soft, loving innocence in her eyes, eyes so like her father's, had Rick pulling her arms from his neck and stepping away.

"Don't come in here again, Beth. Don't ever touch me again."

"Rick, I don't understand! I just wanted you to slow down, I want this, I want you."

"Well, I don't want it."

She drew back as if slapped, tears pouring down her face, "You don't mean that."

"I do mean it. I should be like a father to you, not... not some old man chasing after your innocence. I'm sorry, I never should have let that happen. Just go, please."

And she did, and the echo of her running footsteps pounded in his mind long after he could no longer hear her. He hated himself, hated that he'd hurt her, but it was for the best. There was nothing between him and Beth Greene and there never would be. He scrubbed a hand at his beard, miserable, remembering the hurt look on her face.

Judy gurgled, pulled up at the bar of her crib, looking around the cell, "Mama? Mama?"

Well, there'd always be Judith between them.