Author's Note: I've waited a long time to write this chapter, lots of ground to cover in this one. I hope it's not too crap because I rushed through it. Enjoy!

A few days after the mysterious encounter at Nana Vega's card game, Beck found himself behind the wheel of his Camaro.

He sped through the picturesque countryside of Hale, scattering leaves in his path like ducks taking flight.

Technically, he was supposed to be in his hotel room writing his latest article.

But lately, Beck Oliver was having a lot of trouble just focusing on the small things.

And it had everything to do with Tori Vega.

Just when he thought he had her all figured out, she somehow found a way to throw a curve ball at him every time.

Even though he was the one calling the shots at present, she was always still a step ahead.

He should be happy she was finally cooperating with his desire to interview her.

She was practically eating from the palm of his hand.

So why wasn't he happy about it?

And why was he so fixated with wanting to know her better?

Tori was just another story to him, another accolade to add to his growing acclaim as a journalist.

He didn't need or want her for anything else.

That's what he tried to tell himself at any rate.

The more Beck tried to rationalise his fascination with her on a professional and personal level, the more confused and frustrated he became with himself.

He listlessly poked at the knobs and buttons with his free hand, trying to find some decent music on a radio station to drown out his sombre mood.

"And that was the latest hit by Cuttlefish called 'Fish Wife', currently topping the Billboard Charts," Cory Fleming's voice rang out exuberantly through the airwaves while Beck drove along a sharp hairpin bend.

"For all you Cuttlefish fans out there, I'll be interviewing their lead singer, Jimmy Cod, tomorrow morning on my show, 'Wake Up With Fl-'"

Beck turned the radio off at that precise moment and began slowing down as something caught his eye off to the right.

Just outside 'Greenwoods Inn and Tavern', a local bar on the outskirts of town, Beck spotted a familiar red pick-up truck.

"Well, what do we have here?" Beck asked of himself, putting his car in reverse and retracing his steps.

He drove into the semi-vacant parking lot. Glancing at his watch, Beck realised that it was already 5pm.

How long had he been driving around for?

And more importantly, what was Tori doing at a bar when she was supposed to be manning the family hardware store?

Just inside, Tori was heaving and grunting while pulling her inebriated father off of a barstool, balancing his sagging weight with her arms and shoulders as she helped him out of the bar.

"Aww, Tori – can't I have just one more drink?" David slurred like a whiny 5-year old.

"No, you've had enough, Dad. We need to go home." Tori replied firmly.

She should've been used to the routine by now.

She'd kiss her dad goodbye in the mornings before heading to the hardware store.

And then she'd get a call from Lenny, the barman at 'Greenwoods', asking her to come pick her dad up because he'd maxed out his tab yet again and his sobriety along with it.

Just like always, it would come down to a fight between father and daughter about whether he could have 'just one more drink' as she piled him into the front passenger seat of her truck.

Then they'd get home and he'd sleep it off, waking the next day without a single memory attached to the night before.

But Tori remembered every single time she'd been down this road before.

She carried every feeling with her like a bag of bricks pressing down on her shoulders.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Exhaustion.

Sadness.

Humiliation.

Loss.

Regret.

"You know, you've never let me have any fun ever since you got your driver's licence," David complained serenely, bombarding Tori's senses with the smell of whiskey and sweat protruding off his stained jacket.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Dad…" Tori mumbled, using her free hand to open the swinging door of the main entrance. "I haven't been having a whole lot of fun either." She griped in spite of herself.

Tori kept a firm grip on her dad's waist as she guided him through the parking lot.

"Good boy, Port Hole," David praised, pointing to the family dog, who was sitting on a wooden bench just outside the bar next to an old man who looked just as drunk as Mr. Vega.

"His name's Skipper," Tori pointed out, surmising that man and dog had walked all the way across town together earlier that day.

"I changed it." David informed his youngest daughter with a mischievous grin.

"Good one, Dad. Steady, watch your step." Tori commanded painstakingly as they got closer to the car.

"I'll be back later, Travis!" David called out to the old man sitting next to Skipper on the bench. "Boy, Travis has got problems," he mumbled more to himself in an intoxicated stupor.

Tori ignored her father's last statement and opened up the front passenger seat door with a great effort.

To her astonishment, the driver's seat door opened of its own accord and two tanned arms shot through the car and helped her father in a laying position.

"There you go, David…" a man's voice crooned in an unexpectedly compassionate whisper.

"Beck?" Tori asked in surprise, standing upright once more and staring over the top of the car.

He was really here, outside of 'Greenwoods' of all places, helping her.

This couldn't possibly be happening.

"Beck, please don't write about this…" Tori begged, her voice choked with sudden emotion as she willed herself not to cry in front of him.

Beck was stung by her insinuation, but he swallowed his pride instantly. "Forget about it, I would never write about this, Tori…" he stammered graciously.

Once David was safely in the car and stretched out across both front seats, Tori slammed the front passenger door, effectively drowning out her dad's quiet snoring. Beck followed suit and closed the driver's seat door and followed the brunette around the side of the car.

To his dismay, she was cupping her face in her hands, a few stray tears seeping from her eyes.

"I'm just so tired of this scene…" Tori declared through her sniffles, her hand over her mouth while she spoke.

"Why don't you just let him sleep it off in the truck for a while? Come take a ride with me. We'll come back for him later." Beck implored.

Tori hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding vigorously and locking her dad in the truck.

Then the two wordlessly walked towards Beck's car and got in and started driving down the winding road.

Beck opened up the roof of his car and let the wind take him and Tori away as they drove on towards approaching sunset.

It was quiet for a while before Tori finally broke the silence:

"My Dad's an alcoholic." She began with some formality in her voice. "When my parents first met, he barely touched the stuff. Not even at social events with his partner or the other cops at the precinct. But after my Mom died…he just…started drinking more and more."

"So that's when you dropped out of college, to come take care of him?" Beck guessed shrewdly.

Tori nodded and stared off into the distance. "Trina came home too; she'd just finished beauty school out of state. It's ironic, my grandmother had recovered fully from her condition which caused us to move to Hale in the first place. I think God wanted her to make it…so she could be here for us when my Mom died. She was crossing the street and got hit by a drunk driver in the middle of the day. He ran a red light and killed her instantly. Just like that, her life was over in a matter of seconds. I can't drive down that street in the middle of town without thinking about her.

My Dad started his career in the LAPD; then he transferred over to Hale's Police Department after we moved here when Trina and I were still in high school. He stayed on as Chief of Police for a little while after my Mom died. But then he started missing shifts and drinking on the job. Eventually he retired and stopped taking inventory at the hardware store on a regular basis.

Trina tried helping out at the hardware store too at first. But it wasn't a good mesh from the start, so she eventually got a job at 'Do or Dye' and I stayed on as manager at the store because my Dad couldn't run it by himself any more. I didn't feel right about finishing off my Performing Arts degree when my family was basically falling apart. So I just quit school and came home indefinitely." Tori concluded, feeling a strange sense of relief at telling her story to Beck.

"My dad had a drinking problem for a while too when I was a teenager." Beck declared.

Tori stared aghast as Beck continued talking:

"He used to work in construction. One day, he was on a job at a site for a new shopping mall in Chinatown in LA. He fell off a scaffold and broke his back. He ended up in a wheelchair; he never walked again for the rest of his life.

My Dad couldn't work anymore after that; our only source of income was his government grants and my Mom's meagre earnings as a nurse. It was a pretty dark time for our family when my dad started drinking more and more. He got help eventually. But the damage was already done and he needed a new liver after a couple years. He died before he could get a transplant." He stated, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Beck." Tori replied soberly, staring at him out of the corner of her eye.

"It's ok, it was a long time ago. Jade and I got married pretty soon after my dad died. That was probably the closest I've ever felt to her on an emotional level. I don't know what I would've done if both she and my Mom hadn't been there for me. My dad and I didn't always get along, but it was still hard for me to accept that he was gone. It still is most days." Beck answered seriously.

"I guess they're never really gone though," Tori murmured pensively while tracing an invisible line on the window with her finger. "There are always memories constantly bombarding you, even the silly ones. Like the way my Mom would sneeze when she tried to dust the ceiling fans. Or how she always used to make me a cup of really awesome Belgian hot chocolate on a rainy day."

"My Dad let me live in my own trailer in the driveway," Beck piped up without thinking.

Tori burst out laughing at the randomness of Beck's statement and he started chuckling too.

"You lived in a trailer in your own driveway?" Tori questioned incredulously through her laughter.

"Yip. I went through a really rebellious phase when I was in high school. My dad always used to say things like: 'if you live under my roof, you gotta live by my rules'. So I made my own roof and my own rules." Beck explained with a reminiscent smile on his face.

"Beck Oliver: a rebel without a cause. Why am I not surprised?" Tori teased lightly. "Did he also give you grief about becoming a reporter?"

"Surprisingly, no. I think he was secretly relieved that I didn't want to go into construction too. He said that I was good at reading people; he said always said things like, 'if you know people, you'll know how to write about 'em.'. I initially did a course in Scriptwriting at UCLA. But then I eventually finished off my degree majoring in Journalism. After all, journalism is 'literature in a hurry', as they say.

My mom on the other hand, wanted me to be a musician because I was good at playing guitar." Beck added with a smirk on the last part.

"A musician?" Tori asked in amusement.

"Oh yeah. She dated this Spanish guy back in college who apparently played like Carlos Santana. It drove my Dad crazy every time she brought up her old boyfriends." Beck joked, which made Tori chuckle.

"I always wanted to be a singer." Tori declared, staring Beck full in the face while he drove. "That was always my dream; my parents were pretty supportive because of how much I loved singing and dancing back in school. So I got a scholarship for a Performing Arts degree at the University of Maryland. I also did 'Art & Design' as an elective too; that's how I started creating my own little cute inventions afterwards. It helped me to pass the time while I was manning the hardware store. D.I.Y. equipment really isn't that exciting for a former city girl." Tori stated with a playful wink.

"I don't know…women handling dangerous tools and equipment sounds pretty exciting to me." Beck teased in a faux lecherous tone, which made Tori roll her eyes at his silliness.

It was slowly growing dark around them as they drove along the winding roads of Hale.

Just as they were crossing an old rickety bridge, Beck's car began whining and groaning like a dying elephant.

"What the-" Beck mumbled, his eyes bulging when he saw an orange light blinking in front of him.

Before he could utter a curse word, the car suddenly came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the bridge.

Tori lurched forward, the seatbelt catching her around the middle before she could crash into the dashboard.

"What kind of gas did you put in this car? Diesel?" Tori asked suspiciously.

"I don't know, the pump that was closest to the car at the gas station." Beck replied hurriedly, banging his fist on the steering wheel in frustration.

Without warning, a tiny explosion erupted from the exhaust pipe at the back of the car, startling Beck and Tori.

Sighing loudly, Tori unfastened her seatbelt and opened the car door.

"Unbelievable: a man who doesn't know anything about cars," she griped sardonically before exiting. "Pop the hood. I wanna take a look inside," she commanded of the stunned reporter.

Beck watched in amazement as Tori lifted the hood of the car and inspected the damage.

"Your car takes unleaded gas. The filter's clogged," Tori informed Beck after staring at the various wires and tubes for a few seconds.

"Can you fix it?" Beck inquired, suddenly wishing his dad had taught him how to fix cars when he was a kid.

"Yip, but I need some tools."

Beck scanned their surroundings with an uneasy countenance. "It's pretty isolated around here." He remarked dubiously.

"Yeah, it's nice." Tori agreed in a dreamy tone, clearly missing the point.

Beck squinted in confusion at Tori before rolling his eyes. "Well, if there's one thing New Yorkers know how to do, it's hail a cab."

"There aren't any cabs in Hale. Most people here are friendly enough to offer you a ride if you need one."

"Since there aren't any 'friendly people' about, New Yorkers do the next best thing: walk."

"OR…we could save the car's battery. There's a farm a few miles away; us country girls cut across the field. It's quicker." Tori informed Beck with a smug smile.

Beck watched in apprehension as Tori waded calmly through the long blades of grass. Digging his hands into his long overcoat, he followed swiftly behind her.

"Be careful! There are snakes in the grass!" Tori warned.

Beck's stomach dropped like lead as he gazed down in horror at his exposed feet. "What?" he exclaimed.

"Snakes," Tori repeated in a small voice.

"I don't like snakes," Beck moaned in a low voice.

"Just uh…walk normally. The snakes won't get you."

Instead of walking, Beck decided to leg it, and very quickly too as he sped past Tori, looking like he had ants in his pants. "Come on, hurry!" he called out, waving his arms comically above his head.

"What are you doing? A snake dance?" Tori questioned, trying very hard not to laugh at Beck's antics.

"I'm…scaring the s-snakes!" Beck yelled hoarsely, hiking his legs up as far as they would go while he ran, as if he were participating in a hurdles race.

"You're scaring me," Tori quipped jokingly.

"I'm scaring myself," Beck concluded with a wry chuckle, massaging a stitch in his side when he came to a stop at the end of the snake-ridden grass.

Tori shook her head and laughed at Beck as she took the lead once more as they passed through a corn field.

"Do you think there's one person out there for everybody?" She asked wonderingly while glancing up at the star-filled sky.

"No. But I think 'attraction' too often can be mistaken for 'right-ness'." Beck answered in earnest. "Attraction is very misleading."

"Yes it is." Tori agreed.

She and Beck came to a stand-still in front of a high wooden fence which stood between them and the farm up ahead.

"Attraction doesn't mean anything," Tori continued, feeling strangely flustered with Beck's close proximity.

To remedy this, she started to climb the fence. Beck gave her a foot-up and put an arm around her shoulder to steady her so she wouldn't fall.

In doing so, Tori was now sandwiched between the fence and Beck.

Her legs had hooked automatically around his hips and his hands were still cradling her waist, digging into her ribcage with scalding intensity.

Tori's head began swimming as she struggled to breathe and for a moment, she forgot where she was.

All she could see and feel were Beck's arms around her and the smouldering look in his brown eyes as they travelled over her and down her body as he held her close.

Try as he might, Beck couldn't bring himself to let go of Tori.

She fit perfectly in his arms, like she was meant to be there all along.

"I uh…I suddenly forgot how to climb a fence." Tori admitted with a sheepish laugh, her heart pounding like a gong in her chest. "Why are we here again?"

"Tools."

Tools! Yes!" Tori yelled, her senses snapping back into place.

The spell was broken and Beck reluctantly let go of Tori.

She turned away with overwhelming relief coursing through her bones and climbed over the fence.

Beck followed suit a second later and hopped back onto the grass behind her.

Feeling Beck's breath on her neck, Tori hurried along and jogged to the front porch of the farm in front of them.

"Hank! Do you have tools?" She called out to the middle-aged man sitting on the porch cleaning out his gun.

"Hey, Tori! What d'ya need tools for? You gonna bust out of another wedding?" Hank greeted with a genial smile, looking up from his work.

Tori frowned while Beck began laughing heartily at her expense. "Boy, you sure are well known around here." He remarked with a smirk.

"I'd love to know what your nickname is back in New York," Tori snapped in annoyance, which shut Beck up instantly.

"What's the trouble, Tori?" Hank asked.

"Our car broke down on the bridge over there," Tori pointed out, waving her thumb behind her as she spoke. "And I need some tools to unclog the filter."

"Sure, I got what you need." Hank replied in neighbourly fashion, leading Tori and Beck to his shed around the back of the house.

Once they found what they were looking for, Hank very sportingly gave Beck and Tori a ride back to Beck's car (The New Yorker wasn't prepared to run through snake territory again) and even helped Tori to fix the clogged filter.

It took a good 20 minutes and then Beck was behind the wheel once again, driving back to 'Greenwoods'.

The journey was done mostly in silence with Beck concentrating on the road and Tori staring pointedly out of her window. Any time Beck tried to make small talk, Tori only offered curt responses.

Beck idly wondered why Tori was mad at him.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have laughed at her expense at Hank's 'Runaway Bride' joke.

Then again, she shouldn't have ditched so many fiancés if she didn't want people to make jokes.

Sighing, Beck turned into the crowded parking lot of 'Greenwoods and turned off the ignition.

Both he and Tori got out of his car just as David Vega was rousing from his drunken slumber, scratching his stubbly chin in confusion at his surroundings.

"You gonna be ok from here?" Beck asked just as Tori opened the door to her truck.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Thanks again, Beck. Good night."

Without looking back, Tori got into her truck and started up the engine. Then she sped away down the long stretch of road, leaving Beck standing beside his car.

"What did I miss?" David asked of his daughter in perplexity.

"Nothing, Dad. Nothing at all," was all that Tori said in response.

Author's Note: Quite a sombre chapter, but loads of history for Beck and Tori. I hope this clears up some stuff about their pasts and their family history for this story. The Cuttlefish reference is from iCarly, hope you liked the fictional song and name of the lead singer :P Thank you to all of you for supporting this story and keeping it on your alerts. It means the world to me. Alright, I've gotta get out of this Internet Cafe now. Hopefully the stupid technician will come fix my Internet soon. Keep fingers crossed. Ciao!