I'm glad you all are still interested in this. I was a little worried after my hiatus.
This chapter is very fluff. Hope no one minds. The next chapter should be a little more exciting.
Thanks for reading! Leave a comment.

"What?" Beth asked when Daryl only stared at her, the right side of his mouth lifting into a crooked grin.

"Nothin'. Just ain't never seen anyone so excited about hotdogs before"

Beth shoved at his arm. "Always teasin' me."

She sent a group text to her mother and Maggie saying she and Billie wouldn't be home for a few hours. Sometimes Annette's book club ran late, depending on how much wine was consumed, sometimes though, she was home early. Beth didn't want her to worry. Annette answered a few minutes later with an "Okay, love you." No questions asked.

Maggie on the other hand sent her multiple messages. One with a surprised face emoji and then one that questioned, "Where are you? You're at Daryl's aren't you?" And "When will you be back? You're not staying the night there are you?"

Beth put the phone on silent and shoved it down into her bag. Maggie's response to Daryl coming back to town was getting old. Most of the time Beth would ignore her, but her nagging was getting out of hand. She couldn't just keep her thoughts to herself, always had something snide or rude to say.

Surely Maggie didn't expect Beth to live the life of a virginal spinster forever, did she? Which, to be honest, was how she'd been living these past years since coming home. She'd been so focused on Billie she didn't think much about her own needs. She thought she could do life alone. As long as Billie was happy that's all that mattered. Now though, there was Daryl. She tried to ignore the shallow longing that burned in her chest for him and was finding it more and more difficult.

Daryl stood at the grill cooking the hot dogs. Billie played in the grass and Beth sat on the top step of the deck, watching the sun as it set slowly behind the line of trees bordering the property. Here on this seemingly perfect night, the setting sun was warm on her skin, the slight breeze blew pleasantly on her neck. She could almost let go, almost let the muscles in her jaw unwind, allow her rigid shoulders to relax, let Billie play without hovering.

Spending time with Daryl solidified her new determination to not let Shane or Maggie or anything else come between them. If there was a problem, she'd go to Daryl first about it. No more hiding away because she didn't like confrontation or because she was scared.

. . .

Beth was impressed when Daryl cut Billie's hot dog into fourths, not halves, without even asking him to. He placed a pile of Veggie Straws next to the hot dog along with some ketchup on a paper plate. From the refrigerator he retrieved a small cup of applesauce, removing the foil lid with one hand. He did all this with Billie on his hip like he'd been doing it forever.

"All's I got is water and soda," he told Beth with a hint of regret in his voice.

"Water is just fine," she reassured. Billie hadn't had soda yet either unless Glenn or Shawn slipped her some when she wasn't around which was high in probability. She retrieved a sippy cup from her bag and filled it with water.

Daryl smiled at her. She knew what he was thinking; always prepared.

"Sorry I don't have anything better than this," he said as he sat at the table with Billie in his lap.

"This is just fine," she said as she slid into a chair next to them with her own plate. "Veggie Straws?" She questioned, hiding her smile with a bite of a hot dog.

"Well yeah, ya' know just for moments like these."

"Uh huh," Beth said around a mouthful of food. "You have a lot of toddlers visiting you?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and chuckled, snatching one from his own plate and popping it in his mouth. "They're pretty tasty," he crunched, making Beth laugh.

It was so simple, just two people and their child having dinner like most parents probably do every day. It was new to them yet it felt entirely right.

Billie finished all her hot dog and most of her Veggie Straws, only taking a couple of bites from her applesauce, then scooted down. Beth helped Daryl pick up the kitchen before Billie was asking to be picked up.

She quickly became sleepy. They should go, it was nearing her bedtime. Instead of leaving, they moved from the table to the living room and Billie curled up on Beth's lap on the sofa. Beth gave her her blankie to snuggle with, tet another item she retrieved from her bag.

Daryl disappeared down the hallway, quickly returning with a small well-worn blanket, smelling of laundry soap, covering Billie with it. Beth was touched. She didn't even have to ask, he just saw a need and filled it.

She couldn't say she was disappointed when he sat next to them on the couch instead of the other chair across the room. His body turned slightly toward them, an arm casually positioned on the back of the couch, brushing her shoulder.

"This evening turned out better than I thought it'd be."

"Yeah," she smiled, absently rubbing her hand over Billie's soft hair. She thought she'd say more but she was suddenly tongue-tied being so close to him.

"You don't gotta be home?" He asked, chewing on a thumbnail. "I mean, I don't want ya' to go," he fumbled. "I'm just curious where everyone thinks ya' are."

He looked nervous. Did she make him nervous? The better question was why did his nervousness make the butterflies in her belly dance?

"Na'. We don't always have dinner together. We all have different schedules and the farm is a twenty-four-seven operation. Mama usually makes dinner, whoever is around - usually me - helps. Everyone eats when we can. I try to get Billie's dinner at about five. Then bath at about 6:30, then bed about 7:30."

She noticed Daryl looking at her strangely. Not bad, just with a glint of amusement in his eyes. She smiled timidly and asked, "What?"

"Just you. You're so structured. Organized."

"Well, you kind of have to be when you have a toddler. Schedules are important for a child."

"I don't doubt it," and he definitely didn't doubt Beth. "I jus' remember the girl that would stay up all night partying."

"Aw come on," she said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. "I didn't party that much."

Daryl laughed, an actual laugh. "Girl, you could drink me under the table any day."

"Now, that's just an outright lie, Daryl Dixon!" Still, she couldn't help but laugh.

Had she really been that bad? She remembered having a good time especially when she and Daryl first got together. It had only been a year or so since her father's death and she was doing her best to ignore the turmoil that losing him caused. Getting wasted was a good way to forget everything.

Billie sleepily moved from Beth's lap and settled onto Daryl's. He wrapped the blanket around her and snuggled her closer. She easily rested her head in the crook of his arm.

"Remember the first time you got drunk on shine?" Daryl asked quietly, watching as Billie's eyes grew heavier and heavier until they finally closed.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Beth made a face, placing a hand to her head as though she could still remember the headache she had for days after. "I don't really remember much past the first cup."

"Yeah, that was a fun night," Daryl commented, smiling slightly, reminiscing.

Beth barked out a laugh. "Fun for who? I was sick for days."

"I took care of ya', didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." Beth foggily remembered him holding her even when she was sick and hungover. He made sure she drank plenty of water, made sure she took aspirin. Fixed her mashed potatoes because it was the only thing that sounded good. He never left her side.

Looking down at Billie, he softly asked, "Ya' miss it? Miss your old life?" He was afraid she'd say yes. It was his fault she had to grow up so fast. He hadn't been there to help her carry the weight and responsibility of a child.

She rolled a shoulder. "There were lots of good times. But when things were bad, they were really bad. Remember when Merle got dope sick? Remember that one time we got evicted and were homeless in the middle of winter. Or that one time we were held at gunpoint by some tweaker tripping on acid? He thought we were aliens or something."

Daryl chuckled. He could laugh about that now. At the time it wasn't so funny.

"And we fought a lot towards the end," she recalled. "We had fun, hangovers and fighting notwithstanding, but I wouldn't trade right now for anything, especially now that you're here," she added shyly, testing the waters. She wanted him to know she was happy he was in their life but wasn't sure how to say it.

"My best years were with you," Daryl said quietly. He didn't seem to remember the fighting like she did. "Weird how someone's best times can be someone else's worst times."

"Oh, Daryl, they weren't my worst times," she was quick to explain. "Things just got complicated."

Drugs, tweakers, fighting, and unplanned pregnancy equals complicated.

"We have more good times to come, you'll see."

She said it with so much confidence Daryl almost believed her. He wanted to believe her. But he always seemed to put a kink in things even before they got going.

"But what about," he stalled. She looked at him expectantly. "What 'bout Maggie?"

He couldn't bring himself to bring up Glenn. If he found out their relationship was serious, that would end all hope of a chance for him and Beth. "She hates me. Don't want to cause trouble with you and your sister."

"Don't worry about her. She has no say in any of this, much to her disappointment."

He nodded. Let it go, he told himself. The evening had gone so well, he didn't want to mess it up.

More quiet conversation, memories, and companionable silence, and Beth realized it had gotten quite late. Much later than she'd stayed out in years.

"I should go. Gotta work in the morning," she finally said and stood. She took Billie from Daryl and shifted her to her shoulder, standing easily with the weight of the sleeping child, gathering her things with her free hand.

He stood with her, grabbed her bag off the floor. "Why you gotta work so early?" I mean couldn't ya' work later in the day?" He questioned before thinking better of it. Billie looked so adorable sleeping, mouth slightly open, one little hand under her cheek, her other arm curled around the giraffe, he was sure he'd never be able to wake her in the mornings. But who was he to question her? Their schedule has worked well for them apparently.

"I could. I just like to be at the shop for the morning rush. Then I can be off early in the afternoon. Billie's always been an early riser, she doesn't seem to mind. Really, aren't all toddlers early risers?" She laughed lightly.

He blurted, "I'm sorry I ain't been around to help."

He frowned. What was this surge of guilt he constantly felt and would it ever go away? It was like he wasn't himself. He was this new person that felt guilt and apologized when no one asked him to.

"Dary," Beth said a touch of irritation to her voice. "You don't haveta' keep apologizing."

"It's just..."

"I'm serious," she interrupted. "Stop saying you're sorry. We both messed up. You're here, I'm here, that's what matters. We can make this work. Right?"

How can she just forgive him for what he did, how he treated her? He didn't blame her for leaving. It broke his heart, but he understood. Getting to know Billie, he'd do anything for her. Anything to protect her including getting her out of a bad situation just like Beth had.

Raising a hand, he cupped Beth's face, trailing her jaw. "Why you bein' so good to me?"

She didn't know what to say, probably couldn't hear her own voice over her heartbeat anyway. They stood like that for a few more agonizing seconds before Daryl spoke again.

"You probably better go." He dropped his hand, stepped away from her.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked, confused by his sudden shift of mood. He wasn't mad or upset. Something in him changed swiftly and she felt it.

"No. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't think I can trust myself around you right now." His voice a low grumble of heat and gravel.

He always wanted her. Even way back when he was just a customer coming into the coffee shop. Now, there was something different in the way he wanted her. Organized and structured, holding their child, balancing her giant bag and Billie's toys. A pull, so strong and intense made him yearn for her. He didn't think it was possible but he fell a little deeper

"Well, I trust you," she said quietly, breathless.

It was raining and cold when Beth finally made it home. Two straight days on a Greyhound bus left her disheveled. Tired with an aching back. She wanted a shower and a sixteen-hour nap.

Shivering, more from nerves than the weather, the only person she could think to call was Shawn. He'd be the only one that would just show up for her with no questions. She didn't have any friends anymore, she had abandoned them all. She could call Maggie. She would show up but there'd be lots of questions and lecturing. Annette would have been there in a second, but Beth didn't want to make her get out. It was late and dark, the roads were slick.

So taking refuge from the rain in the small bus station she called Shawn. Just as she predicted he was there within fifteen minutes. Steadfast and reliable in his beat-up pickup truck. He wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug, mumbling "It's good to see ya' sis." Then picked up her backpack and led her to the truck. He didn't ask where she'd been or what she'd been thinking. Didn't tell her she looked like shit, which she was sure she did. He just drove her home.

Seeing the farm again was like a salve for her wearied soul. Warm light shone through the windows. The porch light, burned bright, waiting for her like it had never been shut off during her absence. It was all she could do to keep the tears at bay.

Shawn entered first, tossing Beth's bag into the corner, shaking the rain off his hat. Beth stalled in the entryway, feeling like a guest in the home she grew up in.

"Ma'?" He yelled through the house. "Ya' home?" He asked. "I got something I wanna' show you," he said, sending Beth a kind smile that warmed her cold belly.

"What is it, Shawn? I'm trying to fix us some dinner," Annette chided coming out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She stopped mid-stride and time stood still. The towel fell slowly, weightlessly, to the floor.

"Beth?" She asked, looking from Shawn to Beth, as though she didn't believe her own eyes.

"Hey, Mama," she said not knowing what to say. I'm sorry I've been gone so long. Sorry I hurt you. I'm back now, though and pregnant - didn't seem quite adequate.

"My baby," she exclaimed loudly. Then in a whisper, "My baby." Time sped back up and Annette was suddenly standing in front of Beth, taking her face in her hands.

"I hope it's okay I came back without calling first," Beth said weakly. The world on her shoulders weighed her down. . She wasn't sure how she was still able to stand. She hadn't eaten since before she left except for a small pack of trail mix. A kind elderly woman took pity on her and insisted she take a couple of bottles of water from the mini cooler she carried.

It wasn't right. She needed to keep better care of herself now. It was no longer about her. This is a theme that would follow her from here on out.

Annette waved her words away. "This will always be your home." She smiled brightly. "Shawn, look! Our girl is home!" She laughed then wrapped her in her arms, guiding her to the kitchen.

"You must be dead tired, and hungry. I'll fix ya' something good to eat. Something that'll stick with ya'. Then you can…" she went on but none of it really penetrated Beth's brain. She was too tired. Too relieved to be home.

She didn't allow herself to think of Daryl and what he might be doing or thinking. He might not even know she was gone yet. He probably wouldn't really care. His life would be easier without her. Still, at the mere thought of him, her throat burned and her chest tightened with anguish.

Guilt pinpricked her empty stomach. She had her family, at least. He only had Merle. So she shoved the thought of him away and focused on the meal Annette put in front of her. Then she let her mother guide her into the bathroom, turning on the water for her and running a bath of hot, steaming water. Annette then retrieved something warm to wear from her closet and left her to soak.

When Beth resurfaced an hour later, there was Annette again guiding her into her bed of clean sheets and the quilt she'd had since she was ten, tucking her in like she was a child. Years ago, before she left, her fussing would have annoyed Beth. Today she embraced it. She needed it. Making decisions, even little ones like what to eat pr when to shower would be too much at that moment.

All night through, she fought the urge to trudge back to the bus station and follow the path she had taken, this time in reverse back to Daryl. She slept fitfully with her phone in her hand hoping he would call.

For the following days every time she heard a car approaching the house, she would still, hold her breath, watching, wishing it was Daryl. She wanted so badly for him to come to her. Plead his love, express how much he wanted their baby once he found out she existed.

Even if he wanted to why would he? She specifically requested he stay away.

But what good did wishing do? Wishes were nothing more than the fanciful thinking of a child and she was no longer a child. She was going to be a mother.

Maggie was waiting for Beth when she walked into the house with sleeping Billie in her arms. The high she felt from the evening with Daryl dimmed at the sight of her sister's pinched disapproving face.

She nodded her greeting then went straight upstairs to put Billie in bed, hoping to dodge Maggie's lecture for the night but she heard her footsteps going up the stairs following her. Beth was switching out Billie's clothes for her pajamas when her shadow darkened the door to Billie's room.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Beth asked without turning around, beating her to the punch. She fasted the buttons on Billie's sleeper, lifted her off the changing table and put her into her crib, tucking her elephant and giraffe in with her.

"I… I don't hate him," Maggie stammered. She wasn't expecting Beth to be so forthcoming. She avoided arguments and Maggie always used that to her advantage. She had always been outspoken, Beth had always been kind.

Beth brushed Billie's hair out of her face before turning to face Maggie, leaning against the railing of the crib. "Coulda' fooled me."

"How do you expect me to feel about him? He took off with you and when you came back, you were…"

"Pregnant," she interrupted Maggie before she could go on with her usual spiel of how Daryl screwed up her life. "It takes two, ya' know? It makes no sense to be mad at him and not me. He's not solely to blame."

"He took advantage and he just left you to deal with the fallout."

"Took advantage of what? I was an adult, over eighteen, out of high school. At what age does my life become my own? Even now you're trying to control me and what I do."

"You were young and impressionable. You had so much potential and you just pissed it all away. Someone's gotta' look out for you and Billie now."

"Having Billie pissed my potential away?" She asked, rightfully indignant.

Maggie tried to speak but Beth wasn't interested. She walked past her and went down the hall into her bedroom.

"Beth," Maggie said quietly following." Come on, Daryl is less than stable. You have to see that."

Turning her back to Maggie, she began pulling her pajamas from the basket of folded clothes she didn't have the energy to actually put away,

"He's trying! He's changed, he's grown up. But you don't wanna see that. You just want to paint him as the monster of my story."

"He's trying? That's enough for you? For Billie?" Maggie asked, doubtful.

Normally she'd find a way to avoid another argument with Maggie. Not tonight though, she'd had enough.

She straightened and tossed the clothes on her bed and faced Maggie. When they were young they argued a lot. Maggie was a second mother in a lot of ways to Beth. Being six years older Maggie thought it was her job to watch over her, to boss her around. This was different. Maggie continued to cross a line she had no business crossing.

"Yes, yes that is enough for us. This has to stop, Maggie. Billie is the best thing to ever happen to me. But you keep feeling the need to remind me of how she's the result of Daryl's being a screw up. It's not okay! I don't want her to ever feel like she wasn't wanted."

"Of course she's wanted," Maggie backpedaled. "She's the best thing that's happened to all of us. We love her so much."

Beth would never regret having Billie. Never. Maggie couldn't seem to understand that. She was too busy being pissed off about Daryl.

"And," Beth went on. "Daryl is her father. He wants to be her father. I won't have you talking badly about him anymore."

Maggie opened her mouth to speak then stalled, narrowing her eyes at Beth. "You still love him, don't you?" She sighed begrudgingly, putting a hand to her forehead.

Beth turned away again. "That's not your business."

"But Daryl..."

"But nothing. He's her father. I won't prevent him from being in our life. If you don't support that then that's your problem. Not mine." Having said her peace, she snatched her pajamas off her bed and escaped past Maggie again, shutting herself off in the bathroom.

It was late by the time Beth settled into bed. Her mind, a whirlwind of thought, her heart full but heavy at the same time. She doubted she'd get much sleep. She was angry at Maggie, but she hoped maybe something of what she said would sink in.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, thinking Daryl would be fast asleep and not see her text till the morning, she typed out, "Had a good time tonight."

She had so much more she wanted to say but chose to play it safe.

Playing it safe seemed to be their new motto. They'd never really done anything safely before. They'd been young and reckless, they thought they were invincible. They didn't worry about the future and tried not to think about the past.

They lived in less than safe neighborhoods. Had unprotected sex more often than not. After a point, she stopped taking her birth control completely. They moved around too much to see a doctor and it just wasn't in the budget. Daryl was a drug dealer for heaven's sake.

This was a new chapter for both of them.

To her surprise, Daryl texted back a moment later. "Me too. Billie is something." Then another text came in right after. "Just like her mama."

Beth's face flushed needlessly. She sighed like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush. "She's got a little of her dad in her too."

"Want to see ya tmr if that's okay," he responded.

"Course it's okay."

In just a few words, Daryl settled her. She would be able to fall asleep quickly rather than tossing and turning, irritated over Maggie.

Something wrong? He asked.

She thought about telling him about Maggie and their argument. How she'd finally put her in her place. Then decided against it. Dragging him into her family drama didn't seem right.

Nothings wrong. We'll see you tmr.

Three dots blinked on the screen then, See you.