She came into his life like a wildfire; quick and without warning. He hadn't expected it, but then, they do say that the best things happen when you least expect them to. He was fascinated by her. She had approached him out of the blue, her smile now etched into his memory.

The music was loud; a band from the upper East Coast was jamming on stage. Daryl wasn't usually one to populate this side of the city, but he had seen the band before and was fond of them. Their alternative style spoke to him in a way most of today's music didn't. He felt at peace here. He was sipping his beer slowly, taking in the scene, when she came out of nowhere, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders.

"Mind if I sit?" Daryl looked up from his beer, cocking his head. It took him a moment before he realized that she was talking to him. He was alone at the table, but it was big enough for four. He nodded at her, an open invitation.

"Thanks." She said, extending her hand across the table. "I'm Beth." Her eyes were gleaming even in the dimly lit room. Daryl felt a smile sneak across his lips. He took her hand in his, unable to ignore the shock he felt at her touch.

"Daryl." Was all he managed, and she smiled at him, finding his awkwardness charming. He watched as her attention quickly turned toward the stage. She began to bob her head with the music, and when her lips mimicked the lyrics, Daryl raised his eyebrows.

He yelled over the music to her, suddenly interested, "You know these guys?"

"Love them." She confessed.

Daryl didn't know what came over him in that moment. Maybe it was the long days of work taking a toll on him, or he was just too tired to think straight – Or quite possibly both. But whatever it was, it was burning bright inside of him. A usual shy and reserved man, afraid of showing his face in public, stood up and extended his hand out in front of Beth, "Join me?" His voice was curious as he motioned toward the stage. Beth looked up at him and instantly blushed. His own blue eyes were dark and he had them pinned on her face.

She didn't hesitate to take his hand, and hoped he didn't think she was doing it for the wrong reasons. Of course she knew who he was; she didn't live under a rock. On the contrary, she spent every Wednesday night curled up on her couch watching the crime driven fantasy-drama, in which he was her favorite character. She'd be lying if she said that he wasn't the reason she had asked to sit at this table in the first place. She had spotted him from across the room, unable to miss the sloppy mop of hair on his head and the square Ray Bans that were the last thing he needed to be wearing in a dark bar. 'It's a little dark in here for those, isn't it?' was what she had wanted to say to him, but she had settled for the latter on a count of her weak stomach. She was proud of herself, nonetheless, for putting herself out there.

So, without another thought, she placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the floor. Her heart beat hard in her throat as his fingers curled around hers. His touch was electric and she couldn't tell if it was her nerves or something more.

Beth's head snapped up as they made their way to the front of the crowd; her name was being called through the speakers. Looking around, she spotted Neal as he called out to her from the stage before diving into the next song. She waved furiously at him. Neal was a friend she didn't get to see all that often, unless of course his band had a show nearby, like tonight. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Daryl and he felt a twinge in his gut. Jealously, perhaps. But why? He had just met this girl.

He pulled her closer to him, speaking into her ear, "You know them, too?"

Beth could hear the apprehension in his voice. A giggle escaped her lips as her mind drowned her in thoughts of a jealous Daryl. "Just from around." She shrugged, turning on her heel to face the stage, her hips already in motion with the beat of the song.

The night passed quickly. Beth and Daryl moved away from the stage after a while and to the bar, taking a shot in the dark and ordering drinks for each other. Beth had been impressed when he skipped over the vodka and ordered her a Killian's Irish Red. She had never been one for the liquor, not after her first drink, at eighteen, had been Peach Schnapps. It had been one of the worst things she had ever tasted. She barely touched anything but beer ever since, and moonshine. After mulling over her decisions on the chalk board above the bar, Beth settled on a Yeungling for Daryl, which he accepted with a grin.

"So, Beth, where ar'ya from? I know that ain't a New York accent you got there." He asked, calling her out on her bluff. Beth had always tried hard to fit into the big city, but she hardly fooled anyone.

"Georgia." She tipped her invisible cowboy hat in his direction. Daryl laughed, something he hadn't done genuinely in a long time. He turned in his bar stool until he was facing her directly, and rested his elbow on the bar while toying with the neck of his beer bottle.

"What brought you to the city?"

Beth met his eyes, her breath catching in her throat. It had been a long time since she had been at a bar with a male friend who wasn't drunk, or getting himself there. She wasn't entirely sure she knew how to have a conversation like this. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she answered, "I grew up on a farm, daddy kept us pretty sheltered. I needed change. Moved out pretty much as soon as I turned eighteen; been living here ever since." She took a swig of her beer and before he could say anything further than "The farmer's daughter.", she pointed a finger at him.

"What about you, Mr. Dixon, what's your story? What brings you to the big apple?" Daryl was caught off guard by her questions. He hesitated, not knowing what she wanted to hear. Did she know who he was? Was he unrecognizable to her? He hoped for the second, but didn't care too much either way. He hated being known. He took a deep breath, dropping her gaze to look at his own lap.

"I've lived here most'a my life, as long as I can remember, anyway. I grew up in the sticks, my Ma moved my brother and I here when we were kids. I hate it here, but its home I guess." He shrugged, and knew Beth appreciated his honesty.

"Home it is." She said, tipping her bottle towards him. He clinked his with hers and they drank together.

Daryl caught himself grinning as Beth excused herself to the women's room. He couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself like this. He was no stranger to making time with a girl; that was almost second nature to him. To any lonely, available man, he guessed. But this girl was different. In a mere three hours, she got him to talk, to smile; to laugh. This girl was a hurricane. She was a surge of energy and he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to drown in her eyes and wrap himself in her skin. He fell the second she had sat down at his table, and he had only fallen further as the night had progressed.

"Do y'wanna get out of here?" He asked as she returned to the bar, his skin itching from the inside out.

She blinked at him. Her eyes were big, round, and as blue as the ocean. "Sure." She said, trying to sound indifferent, though her stomach turned over with excitement.

Beth followed Daryl out of the bar and around the corner of the old brick building. He led her through the small parking lot reserved for the hole-in-the-wall establishment and cursed under his breath when he came upon his ride, remembering the only helmet he had with him was a dirt bike helmet he'd used earlier in the day. He wasn't stupid enough to think it was the type a girl would want to wear. He apologized as he handed the bright orange and black helmet over to her. Playing it as if she wasn't terrified to get on the back of his motorcycle, Beth popped it over her head and posed for him, earning a chuckle.

"Where to?" Daryl asked as they straddled the bike.

To the stars. Beth wanted to say, thinking back to a scene in one of her favorite movies. She smiled to herself, placing her hands around Daryl's waist as he pulled out into the street. She told herself to be bold. "My place isn't far."