A/N: Wow, thanks for all the follows/favorites/reviews for the first chapter! So glad so many of you enjoyed it! This type of story is definitely out of my comfort zone as a writer so I'm very grateful for the positive response it's received so far! So just an FYI, this is most likely going to be an incredibly slow burning Bethyl fic. I think the characters kind of demand that approach, at least in this story. I haven't really developed a plot yet, just have some general ideas of where I want it to go, but I do know that it's going to be simple and fluffy without a lot of drama or angst. I just kind of need to write happiness for my favorite ship. Hopefully it'll turn out the way I imagine! Leave a review and tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!
After dinner was finished and the dishes cleaned up, Beth served slices of her peach cobbler, warmed and topped with dollops of vanilla ice cream. She loved being able to bake something everyone enjoyed and watching their faces as they ate made her smile. Glenn made a show of it, groaning and carrying on making yum noises which the kids happily emulated. Beth laughed, kicking Glenn under the table even though she beamed with pride.
"Bethy, your mama would be proud of this cobbler," Her father added with a bittersweet smile. Beth's mother had taught her to cook and it seemed at times that she'd spent her entire childhood covered in flour and standing before the warm oven in their kitchen watching some new recipe bake while her mother hummed in the background.
Beth returned her father's smile and she pulled back from the wash of memories, "Thanks, Daddy." Maggie reached across the table to squeeze her hand and the family sat in silence for a few minutes, each remembering the smell of ham on sunday afternoons and the rich, buttery taste of fresh baked bread.
After they finished Maggie stood up, clearing plates and instructing Jo and Shaun to take them into the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher. Daryl rose silently to help but Maggie waved him off with a smile saying, "That's why I had kids, Daryl. Free dishwashers!" She laughed as she herded the kids into the kitchen, helping them balance the plates. Glenn followed them, probably to try to help but get underfoot instead, and the rest of the family wandered back into the living room. Beth sat on the couch next to her father, leaning up against him, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like a long time.
Daryl hovered uncertainly between the front door and the living room as if he wasn't sure if he was still invited so Beth called to him cheerfully, "Come in and sit with us, Daryl." She smiled at him in what she hoped was a welcoming manner as he turned at the sound of her voice, looking nervous. He murmured something unintelligible and moved to sit stiffly in one of the chairs, eyes staring a hole in the carpet. Beth glanced up at her father and saw him studying the younger man and she wondered what he knew about the quiet Mr. Dixon. She refocused on Daryl and commented, "So Daryl, I'm interested to see what your take on the house is. I'm not even really sure where to begin so a trained eye will be super helpful." He looked up at her words and met her eyes for a moment before nodding silently. Beth felt puzzled by his lack of response and quiet demeanor. "Do you have any ideas where we should start?" She pressed, hoping she wouldn't push him away with too many questions but feeling determination stir inside her to draw him out.
He met her gaze again and shrugged, "Won't know 'til I see it."
"Oh," Beth nodded, feeling a little stupid. "Yeah, I suppose you don't really know what you're working with until you've seen it."
She glanced up at her dad and he smiled at her a little and added, "I'd imagine you'd start with the plumbing and electric before anything else, right Daryl?"
Daryl looked at Hershel and nodded, "Yes, sir. If the foundation is good, that'd be the next step."
Beth gave her dad a small smile and said quietly, picking absently at the hem of the denim skirt she wore, "I guess I have a lot to learn about this whole thing. I really appreciate you helping me out, Daryl." She looked up at Daryl and was surprised to find his eyes meeting hers again. She gave him a sincere smile and he nodded once again before returning his gaze to the floor.
Daryl left shortly after that, shaking Hershel and Glenn's hands and thanking Maggie for the dinner. He faced Beth, looking a little awkward and nervous, and she smiled, handing him a scrap of paper she'd hastily written directions to the house on, "See you tomorrow then?" He nodded, taking the directions gingerly from her and mumbling something about peach cobbler before disappearing out the front door in a rush. Maggie and Glenn disappeared to put the kids to bed and Beth turned to the front window to watch Daryl walk down the front steps to a motorcycle parked out front in the street in front of her car. He threw a leg over it and started it up before glancing back at the house. Beth felt a wave of embarrassment when he saw her watching him, feeling like a kid spying on him out the window. Trying to recover, she waved slightly and was surprised and slightly delighted when he raised a hand to casually wave back before confidently pulling the bike out onto the road and roaring away.
She turned to see her father watching her with a small smile and she rolled her eyes as she walked towards him, "What?"
He shrugged, continuing to smile, and replied, "Nothing, Bethy. Just glad to see you happy again."
Her smile grew as she wrapped him in a hug, "Thanks, Daddy."
He gave her a quick squeeze before letting her go, calling down the hallway, "Maggie, honey, I'm leaving."
Maggie poked her head out of one of the doors and called, "So soon?"
"It's late for me," Hershel reminded her. "Days start early on the farm, as you well know."
Maggie gave him a quick hug and noticed when Beth grabbed her purse, crying, "Oh, no, not you too!"
Beth smiled apologetically, "Yeah, sorry. Got to meet Daryl bright and early tomorrow. Kiss the kids for me?" Maggie agreed, giving her a hug too then Beth and Hershel left together, heading to their cars. "I'll call you tomorrow once I'm ready to head to the bank to sign the papers, okay?"
Hershel waved his understanding, calling back, "Fine, honey. Drive safe!"
Beth drove to the tiny motel where she was staying. Maggie and her father had protested when she'd decided to stay in a motel rather than with them but she'd insisted. She wanted to be independent, taking care of herself and not relying on anyone for anything. She knew at some point it'd be more convenient to stay with her dad while the house was under repair but she hadn't wanted to move in with him right away, afraid she'd never be able to leave again. She loved the old farmhouse and her father but she couldn't use it as a crutch in her life. She needed to pave her own way, be on her own, living as an adult. She needed something to keep her from staying at home forever and now that she'd bought her own place she'd given herself a reason to keep moving forward. It was terrifying and freeing all at once and she couldn't wait to get started.
In the morning, she donned comfortable, ragged jeans which she rolled up around her ankles and an oversized tank top that'd be comfortable in the heat, pulling her long hair up into a bun and finishing off her oh-so-stylish look with a pair of old tennis shoes. She was excited for her walk through of the house with Daryl and she eagerly devoured a muffin and some coffee from the continental breakfast buffet in the motel lounge before heading to her car to drive to the house. After the walk through she'd come back and change into something a little more professional for her meeting at the bank but for now comfort was paramount.
When she pulled up to the house, feeling ecstatic as she saw the tattered siding in the morning light, she quickly noticed a bike pulled up outside with Daryl leaning against it smoking a cigarette, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was early she noted as she checked the clock on her dashboard that read 7:45. She turned off the engine and got out, drawing his attention. He quickly put out the cigarette as she approached and she smiled at him, feeling a little nervous, saying, "Hey, you're early."
He shrugged, mumbling, "Up early to work at the farm. This here is late."
Beth laughed, "Yeah, I guess it is. I remember those early mornings." She reached into her oversized purse and retrieved the report from the inspector, holding it out to him, "These are the notes the inspector made. He wrote down some estimates too of what things might cost to replace, just as a favor."
Daryl accepted it, looking over the white pages. After a moment he asked, "Who was your inspector?"
"Theodore Douglas," Beth responded, "He goes by T-Dog. He's a friend of mine from Atlanta."
Daryl nodded, before glancing up from the pages, "You mind if I make notes on this as we go?"
Beth beamed and shook her head, digging in her purse for a pen. Finding one, she handed it to him before leading the way to the front of the house. Daryl retrieved a tape measure from his back pocket and started measuring the porch as Beth spoke, telling him her plans for the front, how she wanted things to look. He nodded along, writing down measurements and otherwise staying silent.
After about an hour they stood outside again. They'd walked all of the interior, Daryl making measurements and pointing out a few small things T had missed. They stood side by side, staring up at the tiny house. Daryl glanced over at Beth then and she smiled at him, knowing her face radiated hope. After a second she asked, "So, what do you think?"
Daryl watched her for a moment before looking back at the house and then glancing down at the papers he held. After a moment he looked back at her and responded evenly, "It's gonna take a lot of work…and money."
Beth nodded, face going serious, "I know." She held his gaze for a moment, hoping to convey that she wasn't entering into this lightly.
He nodded, looking at his feet, "Good." He shuffled the dirt around for a moment before glancing up at her, "When you want to start?"
Beth beamed and tried to swallow her squeal of delight, biting her lip. "I go to the bank today to finish off the paperwork then I can start anytime. Are you saying you want to help me?"
"Yeah," Daryl replied, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched her for her reaction. "I ain't gonna take your money, though."
Beth frowned, insisting, "You have to, Daryl. I can't expect you to work for free. Please, let me pay you something."
He shook his head, "Nah, I like doin' this kind of stuff. You got enough money to spend without payin' me for somethin' I like doin'."
Beth took a step forward stubbornly and looked him right in the eye, replying, "You're doing me a huge favor by helping me. I have to give you something to repay you."
Daryl looked down, shifting his weight a little. Finally he glanced up from beneath his fringe of dark hair and asked with the smallest hint of a smile, "Got anymore peach cobbler?"
Beth relaxed, laughing, "Sure! How about this, you help me with the house and I feed you in return? Three meals a day in exchange for your services?" Daryl nodded once, and Beth reached out her hand to shake on the deal. He quickly wiped his hand on his pants again before taking her hand and shaking it once before releasing it quickly. Beth beamed, "The deal is struck, Mr. Dixon. Anything in particular you like or don't like to eat?"
He shrugged, "Ain't picky."
Beth shook her head, smiling, and pressed, "Come on. Tell me! The least I can do is fix you something you like."
He met her eyes for a minute and she felt her heart speed up a tiny bit as she focused on the steely blue. She swallowed and waited, forcing him to speak first this time. Finally he confessed, "I'm a meat and potatoes guy. Nothin' fancy."
She nodded, "Alright, that's something anyway. Tell you what, I'll go to the bank today and sign the papers. You can talk to my dad and work out a schedule for when you want to work here. I don't want to overwhelm you and the farm comes first. Sound good?" She reached into her purse again as he nodded, pulling out her phone. "What's your phone number?" She asked, pulling up the address book screen. He retrieved his own phone and rattled off the numbers. She quickly sent him a text so he'd have her number and grinned at him, "So just text me or give me a call when you're all set and we'll work out what to start on first and start purchasing materials. I really appreciate this Daryl." He gave her another nonchalant shrug and grunt and she just smiled at him, happy with the little progress she'd made in interpreting his grunts and shrugs. This particular combination meant Don't worry about it. "How's roast chicken and cornbread sound?"
He gave her another small, minuscule smile, and replied, "Great."
They went their separate ways, Beth heading back to the motel to change before going to the bank and Daryl heading off to the farm. She gave her dad a quick call, letting him know how it went and their unorthodox payment plan. "Sounds good, Bethy," Hershel replied and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Glad to know that boy will be getting fed a decent meal regularly. I'll talk to him about his duties here but really I think he can work out his own schedule. He'll be able to balance the working here and working with you just fine without letting one fall to the wayside, I expect. I'm glad the two of you hit it off."
"He's a nice guy," Beth allowed, sensing her dad was up to something. She forced the niggling feeling away and amended, "I think he's going to do a good job, especially given everything you've mentioned about his work on the farm."
"Daryl's a hard worker and his quality of work is top notch," Hershel agreed. They said their goodbyes, Beth promising to call him in a little while to tell him when she was ready to head for the bank.
She reached the motel and quickly showered and changed, thinking back over the morning. Daryl had been thorough when looking over the house, taking time to peer into every nook and cranny and carefully making notes. She was surprised to see his handwriting was neat and precise, each measurement recorded legibly and every note taken in short, to-the-point annotations. He'd given her the notes back for safe keeping and she glanced over them as she got dressed, realizing the level of detail he'd made note of as she'd prattled on about her hopes and dreams for the tiny house. She smiled to herself, noting the level of thoughtfulness Daryl must have in order to be that attentive to her ramblings and be able to walk away with a clear, precise interpretation of everything she wanted. He was smart, considerate, and knowledgeable, all things she'd missed when she first caught sight of him in Maggie's house. His rough appearance and shaggy hair along with his silent demeanor had made her think he was surly and uncaring. After spending the morning with him she realized just how wrong she'd been. It seemed the quiet Daryl Dixon was a human personification of the phrase "don't judge a book by its cover." She decided in that moment to keep trying to uncover the true Daryl, buried beneath the rough exterior. She wanted to get to know him and be the kind of person who could look past appearances and see who a person was in their heart. She had a feeling there was so much more to Daryl than met the eye and she found herself eager to keep trying to peel back the layers and help him open up. Just this morning she'd seen him smile, the memory making her heart speed up a little, and she definitely wanted to see that again. Maybe a little peach cobbler was in order, she thought to herself with a smile as she climbed into her car to head to the bank. She was ready start moving on to the next phase of her life and she had a feeling a certain silent handy man was going to play a part in it.