Author's Note: Hey y'all! We meet again! Here's another one-shot! This one has a ton more humor than the previous ones so I hope you enjoy it! I heard 'Cleanin' this Gun' by Rodney Atkins today and it immediately made me think of how Daryl would be with a teenaged daughter. Which, as it turns out, is hilarious! So if ya like it, leave a review! I really enjoyed writing this and used some of my personal experience to write it.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead, its' characters or the song. The song belongs to (as far as I know) to Rodney Atkins and The Walking Dead belongs to AMC and the comic book writers. I am not making a profit off of them! Thanks!

Come on in boy, sit on down

And tell me 'bout yourself

So you like my daughter, do you now?

Yeah we think she's something else.

She's her daddys' girl and her mama's world,

She deserves respect, that's what she'll get, ain't it son?

Now y'all run along and have some fun,

I'll see you when you get back

Bet I'll be up all night,

Still cleaning this gun.

Cleaning this Gun (Come on in Boy)

"Momma! Daddy's doing it again!" I heard my teenage daughter scream from the front of our small house and could also faintly hear my husband muttering obscenities. One of the many reasons I was thankful to be out in the middle of nowhere without any neighbors in sight.

I made my way to where all of the commotion was coming from and spied my husband sitting comfortably on the couch, cleaning his knives without a care in the world, it seemed.

I looked up to meet the bright hazel eyes of my daughter, her cheeks flushed and her mouth turned in anger. Towards Daryl.

"What's he doing now, baby?" I faintly heard Daryl mumble something along the lines of 'I ain't done nothin'" but chose to ignore it for the time being.

"Steven invited me to go to the movies with him tomorrow night and daddy says I can't go! Tell him to let me go!"

I sighed reluctantly and gestured my hands for her to calm down.

"You know I can't make your father do anything he don't want to. If you really want to go out with this boy, we'll have to meet him before anythings' set in stone." I heard both of them sigh audibly.

"See what you did, daddy! Now he's gotta come meet you and then he won't ever want to see me again! I hate you!"

"Good! Y'don't need to date any little punks anyway! I hope he hates my fricking guts!" Smirking to himself as he said it.

With those parting words and a strangled sob, Samantha Dixon, aged 16, hightailed it to her bedroom and slammed the door loudly.

I winced and glanced to my husband, who not to my surprise, was still seated comfortably on the couch. Looking positively giddy with himself as he continued to clean and sharpen his knives.

I shook my head at him and he only grinned in return, pulling me into his lap after putting his weapons away.

The Following Evening

It was almost 6 o'clock and Sam was back in her bedroom, dolling herself up. I was currently cooking a meal for an army consisting of a roasted deer ham, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and home-made biscuits courtesy of my mama's recipe.

Not sensing the presence of my husband, I made sure the stove burners were on low and went in search of him. He couldn't be far.

After looking outside and in his tool shed, I walked back inside and decided to check the bedroom. Usually you couldn't find him back there unless it was bedtime or he became sick.

But walking into our bedroom and closing the door, I had to hold in the laughter that threatened to bubble out at the sight of him.

He had one of his trusty old flannel shirts with the sleeves cut out, holey jeans that probably needed to be thrown away and some steel-toed work boots. Nothing unusual for him but normally he didn't dedicate this much attention to his attire. His muscular arms rippled as he moved and even at almost 46 years old, he didn't look a day over 35.

Looking at him expectantly, he turned to me and smiled.

"Know where my knife holdster is at, darlin'?" I shook my head at him and said one single word, "No."

"What do you mean, no?" he asked as he went to his gun cabinet and pulled out a big huntin' knife. "If y'don't tell me, I'm gon' have to keep it in my hand, I reckon'."

I sighed to myself and went to look through his belts, since he usually left the holdster hooked on.

"Here." I said and handed it to him, then we proceeded to exit the bedroom.

I really hope my daughter doesn't have a nervous breakdown.

Just before 7 came, I called Sam out to help set the table and Daryl was currently outside checking to see if the meat in the home-made smoker was almost ready to be frozen up and put away.

"Momma, please don't let daddy embarass me... I really like this guy.."

She gave me a pleading look and I wanted so badly to reassure her that nothing would happen but this was Daryl we were talking about. The same man who forbid Sam to have any male friends as soon as she started going through puberty. The day she had gotten her period was a day I'd rather forget. I suspect he had an internal breakdown of epic proportions.

"I'll do my best, honey. But no promises."

We finished setting the table and I heard the front door open, followed by a loud gasp from my daughter as she stared past me in disbelief.

Before I could turn around, she had already started in on her father.

"Daddy, no!"

Turning around, I gasped myself and took in the sight of my husband holding his crossbow casually over his shoulder.

"Daryl, what the hell?"

"What? Y'all actin' like ya ain't never seen no crossbow before.." At our exasperated sighs, he continued as if he had our blessing. "If we get to talkin' bout huntin', I wanna show the boy what I aim' to chase im' with.. He won't be able to see it if it's locked in the damn gun cabinet!"

I gathered my wits about me and approached my husband, trying not to break into laughter at my daughters' expense.

"Ok, whatever you say" I kissed him soundly on the mouth and we proceeded to get everything ready for dinner.

"So, Steven.." He said the name with unconcealed disdain and I scowled to myself. "What do you do, boy?"

The boy in question looked as if he were about to shit his pants at any moment. Sam looked like she was about to lose it and Daryl looked so happy with himself that I wouldn't be surprised if he broke into song at the end of the night.

"I um... I-I go to school... With Sam... How about you, sir?"

Daryl scoffed to himself, "What d'you mean, 'how bout you'? Don't gotta be worryin' bout what my ass does..." he mumbled and contined to eat, not answering the question.

"So Steven, what's your favorite subject in school?" I asked, figuring that was an easy question to ask that wouldn't cause any conflict. My husband was unusually hostile tonight.

"History, especially the civil war.." He said hesitately, glancing timidly between myself and Daryl. I nodded and asked Sam to pass me the basket of biscuits in the middle of the table.

"Yeah, me and Steven have History together.. When I can't remember specifics, he helps me. He's really smart.." Sam pushed in, obviously trying to gain our approval; especially Daryls'.

"Is that so? Good for you, Steven!" I said encouragingly. "Would you like some more sweet tea?" I rose from the table, grabbing his almost empty glass.

"Yeah, that'd be great.." he replied, starting to stand up with me.

"Don't gotta serve im' like a maid, Beth. Can get it himself, can't ya?" He looked to Steven, daring him to contradict him. Steven nodded anxiously and stood up.

"Yes sir, I can. I got it, ma'am." he said, gently taking the glass from me and walking to our refridgerator to grab the picture of tea. I sent Daryl a scathing look that told him enough was enough. He sighed almost playfully and held his hands in surrender.

Once he was seated at the table again, she could sense the guy wanted to find some even ground with Daryl. She knew he wanted his respect badly.

"So Steven, do you hunt?"

That seemed to do the trick because Sams' eyes lit up like a christmas tree and he looked hopefully to Sam, who nodded encouragement.

"Yes ma'am, I love it. Nothing more relaxing. How about you, Mr. Dixon?"

I almost snorted at the question. Looking at Daryl, even the most clueless person could see that my husband was an avid hunter.

"s'all I do, most of the time when I ain't workin'. What do you hunt with?"

"Most of the time, automatic shotgun or my 270.. I see you've got a crossbow there, I've always wondered how I'd fair with one of them.." he said, looking longingly at the weapon but I knew it was no use.

"It's good fer when you wanna be silent.. Doesn't scare off the animals when ya shoot it like a gun would... I get more game with it than I do with a gun.."

Daryl picked the item in question up, pulling the bow string back until you could hear a familiar click and as he started to load the bolt, I cleared my throat loudly. So into his task, Daryl looked up and gave me a pleading look but I resisted.

"Y'know how I feel bout it at the table, honey.. Why don't y'all go outside and you show im' how to shoot it?"

Grumblin' about not being able to have any fun, both men stood up and started to walk outside. I looked over to Sam and smiled, "Told ya it wouldn't be that bad, honey! Your daddy actually did good, I'm proud of im'!"

About 10 minutes later, Sam and I were at the sink doing dishes discussing how well dinner had went when we heard it. The unmistakeable sound of Daryl cussing up a storm. We looked at each other in panic and took off towards the door, hoping that he hadn't already killed the poor guy.

"Told ya it wouldn't last..." Sam mumbled to herself and I instantly felt sorry for her.

Straightening my shoulders, we walked outside to take in the scene before us. Daryl was crouched on the ground with his crossbow and Sam was hesitately backing away from him. They both noticed us approaching them and Daryl started scowling immediately.

"Knew I shouldn't a let the boy use my bow... Went and broke the damn bow! What ailes you, huh?" he shouted fiercely, removing the bow string completely and chunking it towards the nearby tool shed.

"I'm so, so sorry.. I swear, I didn't mean to.." Steven looked as if he were about to cry and I wanted to cry right along with the poor thing. He was trying so hard to impress my husband and he had broken one of Daryls' most prized posessions.

Before any of us could say another word, we could all hear the quiet sniffling of Sam.

I knew the second that Daryl heard his baby girl crying and his expression went soft, everything would be okay.

He stood up, keeping the crossbow tucked under his arm and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Ain't no big deal... Didn't warp anything.. An easy fix, just need to get some more bow spring.."

"Really? Thank god.." Sam said, the relief evident in his voice. Daryl awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow.

"C'mon.. gonna show ya how to fix it.. It's a rookie mistake.."

As they walked to the shed, Daryl looked back to us and winked slightly, causing Sam to sigh in relief.

"Well, that's surprising..!" I said brightly.

It was a few months later and Sam had been dating Steven ever since. Most of the time, Daryl was very laid back about it and so was I. We were confident that we had put the fear of god into him and he wouldn't dare break our little girls' heart.

They seemed to be getting along just fine and sometimes, too well in Daryls' opinion. He'd wait up on Friday and Saturday nights for her to get back from their dates, his hands balled into fists every second she was gone.

Now it was a Saturday night and with her curfew being 11pm, we started to worry when 11:15 came around and still no Sam.

"What time is it?" I heard him ask from the front porch as he paced back and forth, his steps growing more frantic with each second that passed.

I glanced at the clock on the wall, "11:24... I'm sure they're just having car trouble..." I said, hoping to ease the tension that radiated from him.

"Should've called by now... She knows damn well to call if she's gonna be late, Beth!" The shout didn't bother me because I knew it wasn't directed at me per se' but at the whole situation.

Pretty soon, we saw the headlights of Stevens' truck come into view and I knew Daryl was resisting running out and scolding her. I was thankful for that but when our daughter exited the vehicle with tears falling down her face, I knew things were about to get worse.

She slammed the door and approached us, the tears still fresh and I saw Daryls' mood shift from anger to an undescribable rage.

"What'd he do?" The words sounded cold and calculated, even to Beths' ears and he looked ready to bolt to that car and do some damage.

"It's nothin' daddy..." Sam tried but the words were barely out of her mouth before he barrelled down the steps, towards the truck.

"What tha' fuck y'do to er'? Huh?" Daryl asked, gripping the drivers' door and yanking it open. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and pulled him out, dragging him to face us.

I was actually surprised Steven didn't immediately leave when he saw the expression on Daryls' face but I let the situation play out, hoping Daryl wouldn't be going to jail tonight.

"Nothin' sir!" Seemingly speechless, Steven just stood there and Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do next.

"What'd he do, Samantha?" I asked, using her full name. "You know if you don't clear this up, yer' daddys' gonna hurt him." I meant business and now wasn't the time for Daryl to beat up on a boy because Sam couldn't speak up.

"We argued.. and broke up, that's all.." Sam sniffled, "Nothing else happened.."

Daryl seemed to ponder this and nodded, still not letting go of him.

He looked imploringly to Sam, "So he didn't force ya to do anythin'?" She shook her head. "Didn't hit ya?" Again, a head shake.

He let Steven go none too gently and spoke in a firm but deadly voice. "Best get on outta here then... Don't come back unless she tells ya to. Got it?" he said and before Daryl walked back up the steps, the truck was already halfway out of the drive way.

"Think we should go up and talk to her?"

"Up to ya... probably needs her momma right bout' now.." he mumbled, sipping on a beer while we watched a show on tv.

I shook my head and caught his attention, "I'm bettin' she wants her daddy more right now.. You're her hero at the moment."

He sighed at me and stood up, "C'mon.. lets' get this over with."

We walked into her bedroom after knocking and saw her laying on her bed with her head buried in a pillow, sobs spilling out. Daryl sat beside her awkwardly, as if he'd rather be anywhere but here.

He rubbed her back soothingly and quite hesitately, "What's wrong, darlin'?"

"Steven cheated on me..." she mumbled halfheartedly. I sighed despite myself, thankful that Steven had left before Sam could do any explaining.

"If he cheated on ya, he's a dumbass. Cheaters ain't worth a damn." he said bluntly. "Ya move on and live yer' life, don't worry bout no little bitch who cain't keep it in his pants."

"I guess so... I thought he liked me.. But he only wanted one thing..." At those words, I inhaled deeply and looked at the situation cautiously. This could go bad, fast.

My husband got that fierce look in his eyes again and his adams' apple bobbed as he spoke his next words, no matter how much he probably hated to say them.

"Ya didn't... y'know... did ya?" he asked hesitately and we both dreaded the answer she'd give us. I dreaded our sanity and the life of Steven if she said they had.

But instead, she shook her head vehemently and I felt the breath I had been holding whoosh out in a rush. Thank God...

Seeming thrilled with her answer, he patted her on the back again and stood up. "Don't need t'be thinkin' bout that anyhow..." He ruffled her hair. "Love ya, girl.." He then walked out, leaving Sam and I alone in the bedroom.

I sat down beside her and she leaned up, wrapping her arms around my waist with her head leaning on my shoulder.

"You ok, baby?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll be ok..." she mumbled, sniffing lightly. I grabbed a kleenex from her nightstand and handed it to her.

"You've just experienced your first broken heart... And I'm sure there'll be plenty others before you get married.." I said, knowing what I was saying was indeed true.

"I just thought I could trust him, I thought he liked me. Apparently not."

I nodded and didn't say anything. Nothing I said would make it completely better but she knew we were there for her anytime she needed us.

After bidding her goodnight, I walked out to the kitchen and saw Daryl digging through the fridge.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked teasingly.

"Lookin' for the damn bologna." He said, still searching and with an 'aha', he pulled out the pack. Before he could move any further, I wrapped my arms around his waist, gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

"You did a good job in there... Didn't think ya had it in you." With a muffled grunt, he shrugged. "Just did what I thought was right... Don't know how't handle these things. Y'know that."

I nodded because I knew. He didn't have any good influence as a child so raising a child was a big thing to learn, much less raising a girl.

"She thinks he don't like er' now. Trusted him. But she's gotta learn, I reckon'."

I tightened my hold on him and grinned slightly at him.

"Y'know... The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy."

Well not that I'm a father

I'm scared to death one day my

daughters' gonna find

That teenage boy I used to be

Who seems to have just one thing on his mind

She's growing up so fast it won't be long

'Fore I'll have to put the fear of god

Into some kid at the door.