A/N: This short tale is so different than anything I have written before. Please let me know what you think of the first chapter. I would really love feedback as I am trying to improve. Much love, Bethyl on!

Enjoy

Daryl Dixon never knew girls like Beth Greene existed for men like him, but then again he had never before met a girl like Beth. Daryl rembembers every detail of that first meeting. He had come into the small shop to fix a rapidly growing leak in one of the sinks, and it was Beth who greeted him at the front desk. He remembers how her skin carried with it the scent of vanilla and wildflowers; And how her face lit up with a kind smile that was as warm as the sun. It sparkled within the most brilliant blue eyes he had ever seen; And when she spoke, her sweet sing-song voice instantly put him at ease.

He remembers how her honey blonde tresses casscaded down her back in golden waves, but for a single braid that ran through the center, and a single white daisy that ran through the braid. The girl was a mystery wrapped in hemp bracelets and a beaded chain that hung loose on her waifish form. And it seemed to him as though she belonged in another time. Not quite fitting in among the foiled creatures and curled creations surrounding her in this one.

Even now Daryl hasn't the foggest notion on how he ended up sitting in her chair, and a cape wrapped around him, but never-the-less, it was that moment that altered the course of the rest of his life.

For Beth is like gravity. A beautiful force of nature that plants his feet on firm ground for the first time. She holds him steady with her quiet strength, and brick by willing brick, he slowly begins to build his entire world to wrap around hers. They fit perfectly together. She is calm to his chaos. Peace to his pain. She is healer to his desease.

Beth encourages him to dream. Dreaming for him at first, when it is far too hard for him to think of a future beyond what they will have for supper; And she begins to dream with him, when he starts to think of a future beyond the next week, the next month. When he says they should plan a trip outside of Georgia because he's never seen Niagara Falls, and he wouldn't want to see it now, but for the fact that he wants to see it with her. He tells her that she is his dream... and that he is afraid to wake for fear she will be gone. But Beth isn't leaving... hasn't done, and instead she gently nudges him forward, pushing him ever so slightly in hopes that he will one day see within himself all the wonderful qualities he shows to her daily.

"You should just do it!" she says one day with adoring confidence. "We'll make it work. We always do."

"Have you lost your head woman?! To start a contracting company ya need tools..."

"Which you have."

"Equipment..."

"Which you can get... Daryl you've wanted to do' this forever. What are you so afraid of?"

"I ain't afraid of nothin', but look around us will ya. We've got bills stacked floor to ceiling. We can barely afford bread. How the hell you expect us to pay for someone else's."

"We could always put a lean on the house. It'll give you the start-up you need. You already have the connections... and the guys! You said it yourself Daryl. They'd rather work for you, than that jackass Phillip any day. Martinez, Zack, Tyreese. Those guys would follow you anywhere. And so would I."

"We could lose everything Beth."

"And what if we do. We hate this place anyway. It was always just a pit stop... or have you forgotten. You are going to build us a beautiful home someday. One with blue shutters and a wrap around porch, so when we grow old we can sit on our rockers and listen to the crickets sing. And it will have a large kitchen that faces west, so I can watch the sunset while I look out over a field of daisies. The field you will name in my honor. And I will bake peanut butter cookies for us to eat on our porch, and we will be happy... remember."

Daryl blushes at her words... his words actually. And he meant every one, but times were hard. "I just don't think we can risk..."

"I believe in you Daryl, and I want to see you happy. What good are your dreams if you never reach out and grab one of 'em."

She alway did have a way of puttin' things. Daryl tugs at Beth's hip, pulling her closer, and then cups her cheek in his palm. "I already caught my dream."

"So you say, but I know it ain't enough for ya. I love you, and would rather we live in a cardboard box because you failed, than never see you try."

There was no arguing with Beth once she set her mind on somethin', and in the end she was right.

Two years in, and they had finally turned the corner. The business was thriving, and their bills were finally getting payed on time.

Daryl steps out of the shower, shaking the excess water from his hair as he grabs a towel to dry off. He reaches over the vanity for a comb and quickly glances down at his watch that sits beside it.

Seven o'clock, Shit! He is already running late and there is still so much that needs to be done. Daryl lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through his shaggy brown mop. It is getting long again and he had hoped to hit the Clip and Curl early. See if she could cut it for him before their date. Now he will be lucky to make it there at all. The night hasn't even started, and is already turning into a beautiful disaster.

But Daryl is determined to see this through. He will not wuss out on her again. Not now that the permits have been approved, and he has been given the go-a-head to break ground next week.

Daryl throws on some pants, and with little time to spare, he bolts down the hallway to the tiny room at the end, grabbing one of his better shirts from the freshly folded stack. Next he rounds his side of their unmade bed, and reaches into the drawer of his night stand to pull out a small box tucked in the very back corner. Daryl's palms begin to sweat just holding the box in his hand, and his heart beats fast.

Very slowly he opens it, promptly shuts it, and then opens it again, so as to properly examine the contents. He had picked it up last month, designed it with the jeweler specifically, and smiles with pride as the infinite fractals of colour sparkle and dance off of the modest diamond in the center of the ring. He imagines how it will look against her skin, against the beads and the flowers and braided twine that she chooses to decorate herself in. Daryl closes the box and shoves it in his pocket, grabs the keys to the truck, and then locks the door.