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Beth doesn't remember the moment she fell in love with Daryl like some women can recall the precise moment in time or maybe the gesture that tipped the weight. Like her friend Amy claimed she fell in love with her husband when he gingerly took his grandmother's hand and guided her across the rain dampened parking lot to her car after lunch at a restaurant.
It wasn't like that for them. It seemed one day he and Merle were customers that came into the shop on a regular basis, the next she was riding on the back of his motorcycle. In actuality it wasn't that quick, they'd been coming into the coffeehouse for about a year before Daryl appeared in the alleyway one day when she was done with her shift. From that point on they were just together.
There was an unspoken rule between the two of them that they would not see anyone else. An unwritten code. Daryl wouldn't pick up any women when he and Merle we're out and about and she would no longer go out on dates with guys she once would have. She had only gone out with them because she was expected to date. She went out with them to pass the time. They paled in comparison to Daryl.
She and Daryl spent Saturday night and most Sunday's together and whatever weeknight worked out for both their schedules. Her spot was on the back of his bike, a spot no other woman ever rode after her.
No, she didn't remember the precise moment she fell in love but she did remember the first time he told her he loved her. It had been quite by mistake. There had been a misunderstanding involving a skinny punk of a guy named Spencer that wouldn't leave her alone. Naturally, Daryl beat his ass and was confused as to why Beth was angry with him afterward.
"He was messing with you. Now he won't," Daryl told Beth, breathing raggedly. Spencer's brother and friends had picked him up off the pavement where he lay bleeding and dazed, shoving him into a car they quickly left, leaving Daryl and Beth alone.
"I don't need you to protect me." She crossed her arms over her chest, certifiably pissed at him. "I can handle Spencer. I've known him since we were in preschool together." It was a fight they'd had before, probably a fight similar to one that a lot of young couples have.
"No one messes with my girl," he shouted, letting his fear and frustration echo into the dark. He knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth.
She dropped her hands to her waist, cocking her chin. Her lips formed a thin line and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "Your girl?
"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath.
"Fuck is right. Fuck you. What are you a caveman? You gonna' club me over the head and carry me off to your cave."
Beth at that age was fearless, bordering arrogant. Cocky in a 'I don't need you' kind of way. In that way she and Daryl were alike. In many other ways, they were different. So much so people didn't understand why they were together.
"He had his hands on you," Daryl tried explaining, digging himself into a deeper hole.
Admittedly she liked it when he called her "his girl" when he did so with affection and love. Not in the context of ownership. And if he couldn't tell the difference, we'll then…
"I was handling him."
"Right," he scoffed.
He saw it. Saw how she wasn't handling it. It made him see red.
They had agreed to meet in town after work. It was dark by the time he made it back and located her in the city parking lot. A few cars were parked haphazardly and a few guys loitered near them. Beth leaned against her car, talking. Friendly enough. One punk with the perfectly quaffed hair, ironed white polo shirt with a collar and what looked to be brand new jeans, kept putting his arm around Beth, pulling her closer. She politely dodged him. He wasn't easily deterred.
Watching as he drove up the side street on his motorcycle, Daryl recognized him. He'd given Beth shit before. Kept pestering her to go out with him. She kept telling him no and Daryl was losing patients with the punk. It wasn't a secret he and Beth were together. Either this kid was blind or just didn't care. Apparently, he needed Daryl to explain it to him.
Daryl pulled into the parking lot, parked and went straight up to Spencer as he hurriedly untangled his arm from Beth's waist. They were about the same height. Probably, maybe, even matched strength wise. Spencer was young and obviously worked out, his biceps bulged, stretching the fabric of his too tight shirt.
What a lot of people didn't know is it doesn't matter how strong you are if you didn't know how to throw a punch.
"You touching my girl?" Daryl asked.
Beth sighed, rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers, not in the mood for this today. Not after a long day of serving coffee and then chores at home.
"What's your problem?" Spencer had the balls to ask.
"I think you need to leave Beth alone," Daryl growled.
"Daryl," Beth cautioned, trying her best to squash whatever was about to happen. "Spencer didn't mean anything by it. He was just leaving."
"I was?" Spencer asked obstinately, egging Daryl on. "What are you? Her keeper?" He snickered nasally looking over his shoulder at his friends who laughed uncomfortably in return.
When he turned back to face Daryl, he wasted no time in planting a fist into Spencer's nose. His head snapped back but he stayed on his feet and gave a half-hearted throw. Daryl dodged it smoothly, sending another fist into Spencer's stomach. He doubled over and once he fell to the ground, Daryl snatched him up by his collar, ripping his pristine shirt, hammering his fist into his perfect face.
Beth pulled at Daryl's arm, yelling his name. Her voice didn't register and he didn't stop until he realized Spencer was a mumbling pile of blood on the pavement. He stood and backed off as Spencer's friends picked him up. The only evidence Daryl was in a fight at all was his bloodied knuckles.
Beth was on her way back to her own vehicle, angrier at Daryl than she'd ever been. He followed her, attempted to pull her to him. She, unsurprisingly, shoved him away. Did he really think she'd let him touch her now?
"What the fuck, Beth?"
"I don't need a bodyguard," she yelled.
Daryl was confused, his shaggy hair falling down into his face. Normally she'd brush it away, say something about him getting a haircut. Not tonight though.
"I know that I'm not your bodyguard. I'm your… I'm your boyfriend."
He cringed at the word boyfriend. He felt much more than that to her. It's funny how he can beat the hell out of someone without so much as batting an eye but the idea of Beth being mad at him sent him over the edge.
"What the hell do you want me to do? Just let that little bastard mess with you? Put his hands on you? Where I come from that's not how things are done."
"Where you come from?" She sneered. "Last I knew you came from the same town I do and people don't just go around beating the hell out of a person."
"Fine, forget it. If you want some douchebag guy hanging on you that's your business," he said and stomped off towards his bike.
Panic prickled in Beth's throat. Was he breaking up with her? She was so used to Spencer being Spencer that she hadn't thought how his hanging on her might make Daryl feel. Of course, he'd be angry just as she'd be angry if some girl was hanging on him.
"Daryl," she began, unsure what to say. I'm sorry was probably a good place to start.
How he reacted wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to beat someone up just because you don't like what they do, but Spencer had no right touching her and she shouldn't have let him. Daryl was only doing what he does. Protecting what was important to him.
"Please don't go. We can talk about it."
His initial response was to pound the shit out of someone, her first response was to talk it out.
Hearing her small, wounded voice halted him. He stood for a moment with his back to her before turning around. "Don't you get it?" He asked his anger not yet fully subsided. "I care about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you and if I can stop it I'm gonna' try."
"Spencer wouldn't hurt me. He's just an idiot." she tried to appeal to his practical side.
He turned toward his bike again, rumbly voice vibrating through the air. "You don't get it."
"What? What don't I get?"
His shoulders sank, his hands flexed into a fist before relaxing again. "I can't help that I love you."
Beth froze. Holding her breath so as not to disturb whatever it was that just happened. Tears burned her eyes, a smile played tentatively on her lips.
He turned slowly, head down, eyes peering at her through his hair.
"What?" Daryl asked confused. "Why you cryin'?"
"You said you love me," she managed to croak, the smile growing bigger.
"Well, I do," he said simply, taking steps in her direction until he stood directly in front of her. Her head leaning back so she could look up at him.
She brushed his hair, slick from sweat and the falling dew, away from his face, and then wound her arms around his neck. "I love you too."
She thought she'd been in love before, but Daryl showed her that it had been nothing but puppy love, a little crush here or there. What she felt for him was real. Laughing through tears, she jumped up into his arms and let him carry her over to her car, their mouths a tangle of lips and tongue and teeth.
In her office, Beth sighed. If she knew then what she knows now, she wouldn't do anything different. A different time or a different man and she wouldn't have Billie.
Back then, with Daryl's strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, their bodies hot and desperate for one another, she couldn't think. She definitely didn't think about their future. Thinking about what might become of them and their relationship made her anxious because she didn't want to think about a future without Daryl, and Daryl wasn't a nine-to-five-come-home-at-the-end-of-the-day-to-a-wife-and-kids kind of guy. She convinced herself she was okay with that.
Until she got pregnant and it wasn't about her anymore.
Unable to concentrate Beth ducked out a bit early, stopping at the grocery store on the way out of town. When you have a toddler apparently running out of something, a favorite snack, diapers, a special treat, was a normal thing. Maybe she'd get something special, invite Daryl over for dinner. He hadn't been to a family dinner yet, only the occasional visit and the birthday party that, as far as she knew, went well.
She parked her car in one of the empty spots and made her way to the door, but she didn't get far before a low whistle caught her attention at the far end of the lot. She turned, smiling slightly, surprised at just how much she was hoping it'd be Daryl.
The figure in the shadows of the building the grocery store occupied was clearly not Daryl. His shoulders weren't as broad. His walk was different and when the figure came out of the shadows a shiver ran down her spine.
"Looky there, Beth Greene all grown up."
"Shane?" Beth asked. She'd hoped he'd had left town. Apparently, he hadn't.