Blue Velvet

by: FrankieLouWho

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Here, have another update. I wrote these chapters about a month ago, and haven't had the energy or time to worry about them. Now that I'm updating, I'm going to have to start working on this again, which is good! But I'm also nervous about how it's going to go. Hopefully, I'll find this muse again and everything will go smoothly... Anyway, hope you enjoy. I'd love to hear what you think! Feedback keeps me typing :)

Chapter Four

Shopping. With a woman.

Daryl sighed a rubbed a hand over his eyes as Beth stepped into the boutique. It was all very modern, clean white walls that jutted out at odd angles, hardwood floors in blonde wood that shone, big windows overlooking the busy intersection. It was a place that Carol had suggested, with one of a kind dresses that cost nearly as much as his rent. But the expression on the tiny blonde's face as she stepped inside, eyes going wide as saucers and her mouth dropping open, had been worth it. It seemed like every damn reaction out of her was something he wanted to capture.

"Daryl," she said, shrinking into his side. The backs of their hands brushed, and he jerked away quickly. "This place - it's too much."

"It's where we were sent," Daryl pointed out. He watched as her blue eyes flitted across the racks, the over-styled mannequins. She seemed just as out of place as he did. The thought made him feel fractionally better. Smirking, he nudged her further into the shop, where a bored looking girl gave them a lazy once-over before clacking over loudly in her too-high stilletos.

"Hello," she said curtly. "Can I... help you with anything?" She raised a hand and examined her nails for a moment, before flicking her bored gaze back at them. Beth's cheeks were rapidly reddening, and her lips were pressed into a firm line. Sighing inwardly, Daryl put on his smoothest smile and gestured to Beth.

"We're looking for a few gowns," he said, and that seemed to snap Beth out of her mood. "She's going to be the new singer at Flanery's. We need something nice."

Realizing that the two were there to drop some serious money, the shop-girl perked up and gave them a much warmer smile. "Great. What size are you? I'm guessing a four. Maybe a two. I'll pick a few things out... Why don't you head to our fitting room?" She took Beth's arm, leading her to the back of the store. She sent him a nervous look over her shoulder, and he could only shrug, smirking at her. Wasn't his problem.

But then he realized he was standing in a show-room, surrounded by women's clothing. With a cough, he quickly followed. Thankfully, the dressing room had one of those rooms off to the side, probably where other boyfriends usually waited for their girls to try on dresses then come out and show them off. Wait, other boyfriends? Daryl flinched when he realized his line of thoughts. Boyfriend was definitely not what he was.

Collapsing into one of the uncomfortable but fancy looking sofas, he jammed his hands into his pockets and sighed. Shopping, with girls, was usually a long and trying process. They tried things on, they looked in the mirror, they modeled them... The last part, Daryl could get behind, especially if it was revealing or tight. But wasn't he aggressively trying not to think about Beth that way? It was like Merle knew his inner war, put them together as some kind of wicked punishment.

It was almost twenty minutes later when Beth finally peeked out of the dressing room. "It's really short," she said, hiding her body behind the door. Daryl rolled his eyes and gestured for her to come out. Blushing, she stepped out, and he found himself sitting up straighter in his seat. 'Short' was definitely the term that sprang into his mind.

It was a strapless white number, hugging her small curves deliciously. The skin on her chest was creamy and pale, and matched the skin on her long, toned legs. Daryl almost gulped as he drank them in, trying pointedly not to imagine them wrapped around his waist. But it was really fucking difficult with them on display like that. The skirt hit only a few inches under her bottom, and she yanked the hem self-conciously as he stared at her.

"Well? Do you like it?" she asked, and Daryl snapped back into reality.

"Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "It's very... Um.." He couldn't find a word that wasn't sinful and filthy. "Nice. It's nice."

"O-kay," Beth said, giving him a confused smile. "I guess I'll go try on another one." She slipped back into the dressing room, door clicking softly behind her. Daryl sagged in his seat, his mind racing. Where the hell did she get off, looking so beautiful? She was petite, a tiny little thing, but somehow her legs managed to go on for days. Her skin, her figure, it all seemed to resonate with him. He realized that he was becoming aroused, thinking of her young, capable body. He needed a cigarette, and a shot. Maybe a double.

"I actually really like this," Beth said, pulling open the door and stepping out, much more confident. Daryl was better prepared, but that didn't stop his hands from clenching into fists, unseen in his jacket pockets. Beth looked stunning in red. The dress was a light fabric, skimming the floor, and it was sleeveless like the first. The bodice clung to her figure, and Daryl saw the hard points of her nipples pressing the fabric. Fuck.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, letting his eyes rove over her body. She did a little spin, giggling as the dress floated over the floor.

"Only one more," she added, before disappearing again. He was going to have a heart attack. Daryl was certain. He waited patiently until she reappeared, and the last dress was the only one to suck the breath from his lungs. It was like a punch to the gut, and Daryl couldn't help his jaw from hanging open.

It was a deep, dark blue, Lake Eerie on a stormy day. The corset body held her in and pushed her up, the small amount of cleavage making his mouth water and his body stir. The skirt flirted with her legs, a slit that went up the thigh revealing more of her milky flesh. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Beth smiled at him softly, cheeks pink.

"You're beautiful." The words left his mouth before Daryl could think about it. Shaking his head, he tried to find the words to explain what he meant - but he couldn't. Beth flushed pleasantly, a small smile playing on her pink lips.

"Thank you." She spun to the mirror, examining herself and saying nothing else. Daryl was blushing too, but he just cleared his throat and waited for the awkward tension to lift. "Are we going to get all three?" The restrained expression of hopefulness made Daryl smile, but only on the inside. What was it about this little blonde that made his heart clench? He was allowing himself to become soft around her. That needed to stop. Immediately.

"Yes," Daryl said. "Go on and change while I get the bill." He stood and left the lounge before she could reply, trudging to the desk where the shop-girl was waiting. He pulled the black Am Ex card out of his wallet and handed it over, ignoring the wide-eyed look of surprise she gave him.

"All three?" she asked. He nodded.

"Just have them delivered here," Daryl instructed, writing down the bar's address. A quick glance to his watch revealed that only an hour had gone by - much shorter than he had anticipated. Thankful, he took Beth's arm and hurried out of the boutique, ready to get on with the rest of his day. He opened the passenger side door of the Aston Martin, letting Beth slip in, before securely it shut and hurrying to the drivers' side. He didn't miss the appreciative look in Beth's eyes as she slid a hand over the soft leather seat.

"I like your car," she said, smiling softly. Daryl smirked in return.

"I do too."

"Kinda nice, for a doorman," Beth went on. For some reason, his pulse jumped in his throat, and Daryl shot her a suspicious look. "I just mean, you must get paid really well to afford it."

"I save. I have a few investments," he added, which was total bullshit. Yes, he did save, but the stock thing was stupid. Why risk his money, especially when the market was so up and down? Seemed like a waste. But it seemed to sate her curiosity for the moment, and Beth relaxed into her seat. In the ensuing silence, Daryl heard her stomach growl loudly, and chuckled. "You wanna stop and get lunch somewhere?"

"If it's not too much trouble..." She gave him a shy look, and Daryl couldn't help but return it. He was going to hell for a lot of things - might as well enjoy this while he could.

"I've never eaten here," Beth said as they sat in one of the leather booths. The little French bistro that Daryl suggested was in the heart of downtown, very classy, and Beth felt underdressed in her jeans and Chuck Taylors. Daryl, as always, looked impeccable in one of his suits, all clean lines and dark fabric. When he shirked his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down up, Beth felt her mouth go dry. Thankfully, she was already seated, as her knees turned to jelly. His strong shoulders were wide, narrowing down to his waist and hips. Beth wanted to wrench his shirt out of the waist-band of his pants and slide her hands over the muscular planes of his stomach and chest - not that she'd seen. But the bunch of the muscles in his arms and shoulders were enough indication for her.

"It's good," was all Daryl said as he sat across from her. Beth nodded, biting her lip. She hadn't been out to eat with a man in a really long time, since before she moved to Michigan. Briefly, she thought about her high school boyfriend, Jimmy, and their many excursions to the Dairy Queen for chocolate malted shakes. This was very different - Daryl ordered a whiskey-rocks from the waitress, and Beth seconded him. After the moment in the dressing room, when he called her beautiful and then ran away, Beth's nerves were frazzled. He called her beautiful, she thanked him, and then he told her to go and change. Inside of the mirrored dressing room, Beth had taken a deep breath and ignored her reflection - she didn't need to see her red face to know she was blushing.

He called her beautiful and now they were having lunch together. Beth had been so nervous about shopping that she skipped breakfast. Andrea had already left for work, and wasn't there to chastise her eating habits. She'd been too focused on spending time alone with Daryl that her stomach probably would have rejected anything she tried to choke down, anyway.

"Woulda figured you for a sex on the beach kind of girl," Daryl said. Beth sputtered on the whiskey she sipped, wiping furiously at her chin and giving him a wide-eyed look.

"W-what?"

"Your drink," Daryl said, voice filled with amusement. Beth blushed, realizing that he was not talking about her sexual preferances. Feeling herself blush crimson, she took another drink and the liquor soothed her throat.

"Why, because I'm a girl?" she managed to ask a few moments later, once she regained her composure.

"No, because you're a baby." Daryl's wry smile combined with her words made Beth stiffen. He wasn't looking at her like a baby in the dressing room of that boutique, only a short while ago.

"I'm not a baby," Beth sniffed. "I'm a grown woman. You saw my driver's license, remember?" She arched an eyebrow and glanced away from him, not wanting to see whatever stupid look was on his handsome face. He was infuriating.

"I've got a few years on you," Daryl replied, his tone dark. Beth refused to look at him still, settling for watching their waitress bustle towards them with a big, cheesy grin on her face. Beth recognized it from working in the diner - the same one she wore, when she was bored and had no other tables to wait on, trying her hardest to be as friendly as possible.

"Are you two ready to order?" the woman asked, pulling out her book, pen poised and ready to write.

"Yes. We'll have two filet mignon, medium rare. House dressing for the salads," Daryl said, handing over the menus. The woman nodded before scurrying off. Beth gave Daryl an incredulous look, laughing in disbelief.

"What if I'm a vegetarian?" she asked, and he smirked.

"I can tell, you're not," Daryl said, shrugging. "Trust me, it's the best thing on the menu. And I'm treating, so you'll do as your told." Beth resisted the urge to pout, but still crossed her arms over her chest and 'hmphed.' He simply watched her, lips pursed as he fought a smile. Beth really didn't want him to smile, because that meant she would smile, and she was trying hard to stay angry with him.

After three minutes of sitting in silence, Beth sighed and uncrossed her arms, flicking her eyes to Daryl. The corner of his lips lifted in victory, and she rolled her big blue eyes. "Just beacuse I don't want to sit in silence does not mean this is over."

"Whatever you say, princess." He shrugged and leaned back in the booth, slinging an arm over the back and sipping on his whiskey. Beth smiled at the nickname, as sexist and agist as it was. Deciding to see if she could rile him up, a bit of revenge she gave him a sweet-as-sugar smile.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Daryl?" She watched as he shifted uncomfortably, frowning.

"No." His blue eyes seemed to darken.

"Why not?" Beth asked, leaning forward eagerly. It might have been like pulling teeth - but the information she was gathering was fascinating. She couldn't get a read on him - one minute he was calling her beautiful, taking her out for lunch, and the next he was treating her like a child, acting aloof and distant. Beth found that while she was attracted to him, puzzling together the mysterious man was half of her interest in him.

Daryl arched an eyebrow at her, giving her a look, and she smiled. "You're a handsome man, Daryl. You drive a nice car, you're employed, and I'm guessing that you don't live in your mother's basement. That makes your pretty high stock, these days."

"Well, what if I told you that I don't have a girlfriend because I don't want one?" He tossed back the rest of his whiskey, dropping the glass on the table with a clunk. Beth kept her expression neutral, not letting the noise startle her.

"I'd have to call you a liar." Beth kept her face calm as Daryl's eyes flashed, angrily, and he leaned forward in the booth.

"You better watch yourself, little girl," he said, quiet and low. "You're sweet and cute but you can't just say whatever the hell you want. Some people don't take too kindly to that." Beth sobered at his tone, his expression - he certainly wasn't joking. There were moments, however brief, when this happened and it seemed as though some inner darkness was peeking through. Beth wanted to know more about that - what it meant, where it came from. But there was no easy way of going about it.

"Sorry. I was just teasing," Beth said, glancing down at her hands. She sighed quietly and startled when the waitress slid a small house salad in front of her, and looked up with a weak but polite smile.

"I know," he said. "But sometimes, other people that you're going to meet - they won't know. And you have to be careful, Beth." Her name coming from his lips was positively sinful, and Beth shivered. Their eyes met over their salads and drinks, and the dark blue pools that were so intriguing to her seemed to peer right into her soul. Beth broke the gaze, focused on her salad, and found herself simultaneously frightened and thrilled. What did that say about her?