Who Knew Daryl Dixon Was So Hard To Shop For?

If there was one thing Beth Greene knew, it was that shopping for a Christmas gift for Daryl Dixon could be counted as pure and utter torture. Only last August it had been his birthday and she'd gotten him some shirts but they were without sleeves in only a matter of days. She always teased him about being a August baby, she herself being born in September, because Virgos were known for their intellect and independence, something, she always joked, Daryl didn't have.

But, what did you get for the man that had nothing?

The thought ran over and over Beth's mind, gifts ranging from movies to socks, but she came up empty handed. It was their first Christmas as a couple and she hated feeling like she didn't know him well enough to pick him out a present.

He'd gotten hers weeks ago, she'd found it wrapped in a blanket in their closet. She didn't bother looking at it, put it back without a word, and continued her pursuit for presents.

She stared down at the list she'd scrambled together early that morning of things that she could get him. She could think of plenty of gifts she herself wanted but none for him- at all. There were atleast eight items but reflecting back on them, they were all terrible.

What man like Daryl Dixon wants candles? Maybe he liked them, Beth shrugged, rounding the corner of the aisle with her basket held in front of her, dangling limply.

Maggie had gotten Glenn's present when they went out last- a sighed baseball cap- and a cd of all his favourite music. Beth had asked for her sister's help but she'd only shook her head.

'I can't help you, Bethy, gotta come from the heart.'

And darn Maggie for being right.

He wouldn't want a book unless it had pictures in it and she refused to buy him a book suited for an eight year-old. He wouldn't want movies because he'd never been a movie person; they didn't even have a television, just a laptop.

She was easy to shop for. Jewellery, music- Taylor Swift or something from the country music aisle- or teddies. She could barely count the amounts of bears she still had sitting in her old room in her family's farm house. Since she'd moved out to join Daryl in what they called their 'Moonshine Shack', which was infamously named for the time he got her drunk for the first time, she only had only cuddly thing on her bed and that was Daryl.

Beth stared at the shop across the way. Maybe Daryl could get into cooking, she thought, but once it slipped her mind, she started laughing in the middle of the shop.

Turning, she caught a number of eyes on her blushing face.

Daryl was a hunter, simple. She could get him a new crossbow but the one he used now was so faithfully treasured that she doubted he'd use it. It wasn't that he wouldn't appreciate it, it was just that he was a traditional man.

Beth stared at the row of sweaters lining the wall with a smirk. There was only one article of clothing he couldn't tear the sleeves- pant legs too- off of and it was a sweater. She was going to buy him the ugliest Christmas sweater she could find and laugh as his world crashed down around him when they turned up at her family's farm house and he had to sit across from her father dressed all jolly in the most ridiculous and cheerful piece of clothing in the world.

Merry Christmas, Daryl Dixon, she thought, approaching the store clerk with a large grin.