Since that morning, most days were happening in the same way. Daryl would wake up first, usually in their bed upstairs, except when he had stayed up most of the night in the living room because walkers were roaming the area and he needed to stand watch. Then he would go outside, check the house and the surroundings, and come back to share a light breakfast with Beth of whatever they had left to eat. Right after, he would go hunting and spend most of the day trying to find something more sustainable for them to eat. He never goes far, always at a safe distance so he won't leave her alone too long.

Usually at night, she would sit at the piano and play and sing. He mostly listened in the distance, never disturbing her. One night he even felt asleep in the casket while she was singing. She let him sleep there. She knew he was exhausted; the dark circles under his eyes sold him out even if he was denying it. He did most of the heavy lifting and she felt guilty about it most of the time. Her ankle was healing too slowly for her taste, she wanted to help him, she wanted to find something useful to do.

Sometimes, he would sit next to her on the stool and watched her fingers running on the keyboard. When she finished her songs, she usually would put a kiss on his lips, or just rest her head on his shoulder. It was their routine. It was their life now. Just the two of them, in the quiet silence and safety of a funeral home.

In the evenings, well, they kept exploring each other, getting more and more comfortable. They learnt how their bodies worked with one another. It didn't happen every night, they mostly went to bed exhausted. But Beth was usually the one to start things, Daryl never wanting to push her. And he had to admit he kind of liked when she was demanding, when she was the one touching him eagerly. He couldn't have imagined being with her would be so simple, so easy. Letting himself care and share so much. He knew he was capable of such, he had known ever since the fall of the farm. With Rick, with Carol, with his new family and then at the prison, when Rick needed to heal, he had been there. People depended on him and he felt useful, needed. He learnt then that sharing a bond with others was more rewarding than what he was use to. And being with Beth now was the most changing experience he ever had.

…

He came back that day with only one squirrel as meager loot and told himself he would probably need to expand his territory since game was getting rare in this area. When he entered the house, he found her in the hallway transporting a chair from the main room. He ran towards her and snatched the chair from her arms.

"Whatcha doing girl? You gonna hurt yourself!" He glanced quickly at her ankle.

"I'm fine. I'm better, see." She moved her ankle in a circle to show him she was healing. "I wanna clear this room. I'm putting the chairs in the basement, that's the last one. Can you help me move the caskets?"

He looked at her skeptically.

"Why you doing that?"

"We're staying right? And it's been like two weeks. I don't think anyone's coming back."

"You don't know that." His voice turned a little rough but she could sense a hint of concern in it.

"Even so. I don't think they'll be mad because we redecorated."

"You wanna redecorate?"

"I just want to make this room not look like a mortuary. If we're going to stay a while, I don't want to feel death all around us. There's already too much of that outside."

Daryl observed her for several seconds and she crossed her arms looking at him with determination. He sighed and finally moved the chair to the basement.

Once the caskets have been cleared from the main room, it actually looked quite big. And very empty. There was just the gaudy bench, a couple of chairs and the piano left in there. Beth made a mental note to move some furniture in there, maybe a rug that could make this room a little warmer.

"I think we should put some paintings on the walls. What do you think?" She looked satisfied.

"Do I look like goddamn Martha Steward to you?" He scoffed.

And she just laughed.

…

They were sitting on the bench that they had moved in the middle of the room. It was rather stiff and uncomfortable, this was meant to wait or sit a few minutes, it wasn't exactly the comfy couch Beth was used to at her farm. She was curled up in a ball, nestled close to him, her head on his shoulder. And Daryl just had his hand rested on her knee. They were both looking at the candles on the floor in front of them. The empty space was just emphasizing the fact that they were both alone. They had each other. They were a good team now. But this silence just reminded them about their lost family.

"I miss them." Beth's voice was the first sound that broke the silence.

Daryl waited a little before answering, even if it wasn't really a question.

"I miss them, too."

Daryl didn't turn to look at her, but he was sure she had started crying.

"I miss Judith." She said in a hoarse voice.

And he was right, silent tears had started to fall from her eyes.

"She was the first baby I took in my arms." Daryl said in a low voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Never had lots of people around me with babies. Or I'd just avoid them."

"You're a natural." She chuckled kindly.

"Yeah?"

"Hmhm. Judith loved you. She liked having you around. I think it's because of that day, when you gave her her first bottle."

Beth's throat tightened and her last words broke a little. She wiped some tears but she wasn't fooling Daryl. She was trying not to cry but he could see the pain hardening her features and her chest moving unevenly when she tried to suppress her sobs.

"I think she remembered it."

"Don't think babies can remember stuff from the day they were born." His voice was soft.

"I don't know. But I like to think that she did."

And the tears flowed back again. Before Beth gave into crying, her hand reached to Daryl's shirt and grasped it in her small fist and she whispered. "I miss her."

Daryl held her tight and he rocked her softly while she cried in silence in the hollow of his neck.

…

Beth had found the old garden shed behind the house when Daryl was on a run. He came back and heard the noise she was making. He moved slowly towards the shed, his crossbow ready before he could see a mess of blond hair coming out and sighed in annoyance. He almost shot her that day. But she was waving the gardening tools she had just found and she completely ignored him when he was yelling to be more careful.

She wanted to start a vegetable garden, like Rick did back at the prison. She asked Daryl to keep an eye on seeds and such during his next run. Daryl gave up on trying to reason with her and acted upset and surly the rest of the day. When they finally went to bed, Beth apologized softly and told him she could take care of herself, that she had her knife as always, that they have been training and she knew what to do thanks to him.

"Just want you to be safe."

"I know." She put a trail of small kisses on his jawline.

"I can't lose you Beth." He whispered.

"You won't."

He rolled on top of her and kissed her fully, strongly. She moaned and winded her legs around his waist.

"I want to feel you inside me." She whispered in his ear, leaving a kiss on his earlobe.

…

Later that week, Beth found a game of cards and they were now sitting on the floor in what is now their living room. They had moved some wooden boxes from the shed and turned them into a coffee table.

Daryl was trying to teach Beth to play poker. She told him she had played a little in high school, but she clearly didn't remember the rules and wasn't paying much attention to their game. It was annoying Daryl a little, but the cute smile and pouting mouth she was making at him every time she was losing a hand was endearing more than he expected.

After a while she was really giving up in even trying and ended up suggesting they should play strip poker. She would pay attention then, well at least that was what she kept saying.

"Learn first or ain't gonna be fair." He growled at her clearly annoyed.

"Don't you wanna see me naked?" She wryly suggested while resting her chin on her forearm on the makeshift table.

Daryl remained silence and finally stood up, taping his hand on the boxes. She jumped and opened her eyes wide in surprise.

"Don't need no game for that!"

He bowed in front of her and put both his hands under her arms to get her up. She let a surprised cry out and he slung her over his shoulder with a grunt. After settling her, he walked quickly up the stairs.

"Daryl Dixon put me down! You're gonna hurt yourself!"

He dropped her heavily on the bed, her small body jumping a couple of time.

"Oh you think I'm too old to carry you?" He put his two hands on his hips and looked down at her.

"Yes!" She said in a giggle.

"Really?" He leaned on her and said this in between kisses.

"Yes." She let out in a whisper.

"I am too old?" His voice was low and deep.

He started to kiss her collarbone, his hands on her stomach.

"No." Her voice was almost inaudible.

"Is that right?"

"No, Mister Dixon."

He lifted his head to look into her eyes, his look uneasy. She didn't seem to care, she was smiling and giggling.

"Don't call me that."

"Like hell I won't!"

"You're damn annoying, girl."

"But you like it?"

It looked very much like flirting. Well at least it was the closest Daryl had ever known of flirting. It was odd really because they had already been together in all ways possible. There was no need for flirting but they skipped this part. And now, they were so comfortable with each other, they were able to share those kinds of moments.

He finally nodded and lifted her shirt so he could leave a trail of kissed on her stomach. Her breath got tighter and deeper as he was getting lower on her belly.

He pulled the shirt above her head and she finished removing it completely. Her pulse was racing and she could feel the heat on her cheek, and really everywhere else on her body.

He kept getting lower and lower, leaving kisses, his tongue brushing softly at her porcelain skin. His fingers moved skillfully to her belt and undid it quickly. He removed her tight jeans and settled himself between her thighs, sliding his hands under her ass.

He looked up at her between strands of hair. Her mouth was slightly open, panting and her eyes shut. He could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, so close to his face, to his lips. He put his lips on her sweet spot, spreading out warmth through the thin fabric of her blue panties. He started kissing and sucking at the material and he could her moan above him.

"Oh God." She let out in a whisper.

He chuckled and slid his fingers under the fabric, getting closer to her middle, slowly, very slowly. He was taking his time, glancing up at her every now and then, to see her anticipation building.

He pushed the fabric of her panties to the side with his fingers without removing it completely, she arched when she felt the fresh air and the heat of Daryl's breath on her blond hair.

His mouth went back to her sweet spot, this time no barrier between them. The tip of his tongue darted out and he started moving in circles, keeping a strong pressure. Under him her hips were rocking up and down slightly, uncontrollably, she had no idea she was even moving. Her head was already spinning, her hands clutching at the covers; she was already close to her breaking point.

A long high-pitched whimper escaped her lips when two fingers slid inside her, his other hand stiff, holding her underwear out of the way.

He kept pressure on her clit, sucking at it, heating it with his mouth and his tongue brushing and brushing. The pleasure she was feeling was blinding, almost hurting. Her hips arched even more to let him better access to her, so his fingers could dig deeper, moving in circles inside, right on this spot, this spot inside that was resonating in every muscle, every veins, every nerve.

And finally he felt it, around his fingers, her muscles clenching, a moan so high he was sure it could be heard from outside. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, long and strong.

She let out panting sighs, while Daryl pulled out, removed his hand and the panties went back almost into place, brushing at her swollen and sensitive clit. He wiped his mouth with his free hand and put some gentle kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Her hair was a mess around her head on the pillow and she lifted herself on her elbows while he simply settled his hands flat on her stomach. He rested his chin on them to look at her.

"You know you can just call me Daryl."

"What?" She said almost out of breath.

"I ain't God. Just very skilled."

A/N: So a slightly different chapter. Just snippets of their quite domestic life. Plus some more smut. Hope I don't suck at writing it too much. Let me know! I love reviews :)

And a huge thank you to texasbelle91 who offered to be my beta for this story!