Beth is hot despite the air conditioning of the bar, partly because she's been run off her feet all damn night. Although officially, she's hired as a bartender, she's still learning that part of the job, so when they're packed to standing room only like tonight, she ends up as a server instead, running food and drinks out to the tables. Perspiration is making her red polo cling to her back, and she's grateful for the thin material allowing some air circulation.
Sliding the baskets of loaded nachos in front of two off duty firemen, she absentmindedly smiles at the flirty thank yous from both men. It's a constant, the innuendo or flirting, but ninety percent is fairly innocent, just men and sometimes women liking to blow off a little steam after long shifts. Her boss warned her it would happen, and he puts a stop to any that really cross the line, if the healthy sprinkling of off duty cops or other first responders don't step in first.
A table calls out for a fresh pitcher of beer, and she nods, snagging the old pitcher and clearing two now empty tables on the way back to the bar. The waitressing part is easy enough, since it doesn't differ much from the regular restaurants. She drops the dishes into the bus cart to roll into the kitchen later and puts in the request for the pitcher. Leaning against the end of the bar to watch as Merle selects the appropriate draft, she gives a startled meep when a big hand lands firmly against her right ass cheek, cupping it firmly.
The immediate elbow to her left dislodges the hand with prejudice, and she finds herself facing not a random drunk asshole, but one of the off duty cops. Those are unmistakable, even in civilian clothes, just by the way they hold themselves. This one's new, a sour looking man she hasn't seen in here before, but she's only been working here two weeks.
"Now, pretty thing, don't be rude to those who serve and protect."
The sheer nerve of him implying grabbing her ass is some sort of benefit for wearing a badge makes her cringe. "Sorry, officer," she says, emphasizing his title. "I'm taken."
She isn't, but sometimes that back off the worst of the handsy types. Seems many men don't really like to be seen as intruding on another man's territory.
"Sergeant, actually. Can't no boy give you what I can."
"Gorman." Merle's voice is cold and gravely as he sets the pitcher down on the lower level of the bar for Beth. "Leave the girl be."
"Now, Dixon, you know crossing the law is a real bad thing for a man of your history."
There's something ugly in the cop's voice now that makes Beth's skin crawl worse than him touching her did. She hates the idea that her boss is being threatened for something in his past because of her.
"Girl's taken. Didn't take you for a poacher."
Something about that word makes Gorman straighten up, looking to Beth assessingly. "Your wife know you've got a pretty side piece?"
The careful way that Merle reaches out to pull Beth behind the bar amps up her sense of something dangerous here. "Didn't say she was mine. Remember my nephew?"
"Your brother's stepson?"
"That's the one. His daddy's a cop, too. Just moved up this way for the county."
Beth puts two and two together and figures she's about to get a boyfriend about twice her age from the sound of it. As long as he stays pretend and far away from Beth, she isn't going to object.
"Remember you saying he had a thing for coeds." Gorman laughs, and the slimy nature of it makes her feel like she needs a shower.
"Yeah, he does. Why else you think I would hire a girl with no experience tending bar? It was a favor."
It was a favor, although not to this unknown cop that likes girls Beth's age. She eases around Merle, who slides the pitcher her way. "Take that out and then go pull more orange juice from the cooler, Bethie."
She nods, taking the out when it's offered. Maybe this job isn't worth it, with a man like that around that Merle can't seem to throw out like the other assholes. But the tips are phenomenal. Working here means she doesn't have to take out student loans to finish out her last year of college and might even get some money put toward graduate school. Hopefully the smokescreen Merle gave her will be enough.
Rick slides onto the bar stool after draping his suit jacket across the back. Loosening his tie, he leans back and studies the bar. There's three bartenders on duty, including Merle, handling a heavy Friday night crowd. Three servers are hustling around the tables, carrying as much food from the busy kitchens as liquor from the bar.
The delicious smells from the food remind him he didn't eat before coming here. As much as he's heard Carl rave about 'Aunt Carol's cooking' over the years, he figured he might as well find out for himself. He knows Carol is on maternity leave, with her latest child due in three weeks, but it's still her recipes here.
Getting the random call from Merle on Tuesday surprised him. He's had nominal contact with the man over the past few years since Sophia and Carl became friends, but mostly it's been arranging visits between the two best friends that cross into Rick's time with Carl. It isn't the first time he's asked a favor directly of Rick. Monitoring the prison status of Sophia's bastard of a sperm donor is something he's more than happy to do. Luckily, Ed's as stupid as he is violent. Man's managed to get his sentence extended, not shortened for good behavior.
Since he's not sure which of the servers is the one he's supposed to be dating, since two of the three are blonde, he studies the menu until Merle himself moves down the bar and plunks a tumbler of something opaque and white down in front of him with a grin before he leans on the bar. The grin doesn't reach the man's eyes.
"Local Georgia bourbon we're carrying now," he says to explain the drink. "Let Beth know if you like it. She's headed this way with a tray of dishes."
Rick is covert with his glance, but he almost asks Merle if he's sure the girl is old enough to be working as a bartender. She looks barely sixteen, not nearly twenty-two. The bourbon actually is nice, if a little odd that it's a cream bourbon, and he sets the tumbler on the bar to smile at her as he turns sideways in the end seat.
Beth offloads her tray into the dishbin before stepping into the space between his knees and draping her arms over his shoulders. From behind, he expects it looks like a fairly risque kiss for being in public, but from his and Merle's angle, it's just Beth speaking softly.
"Sorry about the bourbon. It was the signal it was you Merle gave me."
Draping his arm around her waist to keep her close, Rick takes another sip of his drink. "It's actually pretty good. I might have to find a bottle for home."
Merle's making drinks for a server, but he obviously hears Rick's words, pitched higher than Beth's lowkey warning. "I'll make sure you get a bottle," he says. "You can go ahead and take your break, Beth."
Rick's a little surprised that this seems to involve him, as she snags him by the wrist and tows him with her into a tiny staff room in the back. She locks the door, which makes him arch a brow. "Merle was pretty clear this was supposed to be just a cover."
Beth giggles, going to fish a bottle of some sort of vitamin water out of the fridge. "It's called setting the scene, Lieutenant Grimes. The staff room door can be seen from the area of the bar Gorman and his cronies are lurking in. In about three minutes, Merle will tell Laura to take her lunch break. She'll have a fit about being locked out, and he'll comp her a free salad to make up for telling her to lay off."
"So she's part of the facade?" Rick wishes he'd gotten more information from Merle other than he needed a favor for a girl being pestered by an asshole cop.
Beth takes a drink of her water and shakes her head. "Laura's acting skills aren't any better than yours. You would have given everything away if you'd been facing Gorman."
"So what does us being in here prove, other than getting me caught up?"
"Well, I'm fairly sure Gorman's going to think you were too impatient to wait for the end of my shift and slipped in here for a quickie." She sets the bottle on the table and crooks a finger at him. "I may be a biomedical engineering major, lieutenant, but I do enjoy my community theater work."
Unsure of what she wants, Rick approaches, letting her curl her fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt in a way that is guaranteed to wrinkle it. "I should warn you that Merle said if I took advantage of you, he was going to neuter me with a set of hedge clippers."
Beth laughs, tugging him closer until he's pressed against her, and he wonders how she ended up sitting on the table. "He's quite right that you're not going to get lucky. But Gorman's suspicious already, and I think the man's a damned human lie detector sometimes."
"How did Merle manage to put one over on him, then?"
"He can't read Merle. Drives him crazy. He gets a little chatty when he's had a few too many, and goes from leering at the servers to thinking we're furniture." She grins and releases her grip on his shirt, going to finish the job with his tie. "You, however, are a fairly open book."
"What's your solution?" he asks as the doorknob rattles and cursing ensues.
"This." Beth's kiss isn't implied this time, and he returns it in a sort of bemused state. She tastes like something tart, probably the vitamin water. When she finally lets him up for air, she definitely looks like she's been kissed, all traces of the red lipstick that matched her work polo gone.
"Happy now?"
The minx looks very proud of herself, even as she snags a napkin from the dispenser on the table and carefully wipes away the lipstick he's now wearing instead of her. "It's a good start." Running her fingers along his jawline, she hums. "This five o'clock shadow would leave beard burn."
Rick sighs. "If you get Merle after me with gardening tools, I'm using you as a human shield." Lowering his head, he scruffs the tender skin of her throat, trying to think of the contact needed if he was seducing her. As pale as she is, the redness almost glows. He'd be damned embarrassed if it wasn't intentional.
Beth just grins and checks her watch. "Not long enough. Quick trivia. I'm in my last year at Tech, biomedical engineering, but no classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester. I live in a quad dorm on the east side of campus, which sucks but it's cheapest. Planning grad school at Tech, too, majoring in robotics with the intention of specializing in biomechanics."
Rick blinks at the deluge of information. "What would biomechanics entail, other than sounding futuristic?"
"I want to design prosthetics that work with the body's nervous system." She looks a little shy at that. "My father's a veterinarian. He had a below the knee amputation after a farm accident."
"An admirable reason to study it." Rick sits in one of the chairs at the table as Beth finishes her water. "Not sure how much Merle told you. My only son, Carl, will be eighteen in October. He's starting as a senior at Silverleaf Academy on Monday."
With Beth watching the time, they play a rushed game of twenty questions without the questions, trying to exchange enough information to make their six weeks of dating believable. Gorman's ramped up the asshole behavior in the days it took Rick to drop by, apparently not believing the relationship exists yet. Just as they reach the fifteen minute mark, she motions for him to turn around. While he faces the door, he hears rustling but resists turning to see what she's doing.
The mystery is solved when she tucks a small scrap of satin cloth in his pocket. It distorts the line of his slacks, and he blushes as he realizes what she's done. "Grab some supper, Rick. It's my treat tonight."
Glancing uneasily at the knee length skirt she is wearing, he nods. "How about I let you pick something out then?"
"Oh, such freedom," she teases. "And don't worry. I've got bike shorts under the skirt. I take the bus home."
"When do you get off work tonight?" he asks, uneasy at the thought of her on the bus so late, even though he knows she probably does it regularly to get home to her dorm. This cop really worries Merle, and the big redneck isn't the type to rattle easy.
"Eleven. The kitchen mostly closes then, so things slow down."
"I'll give you a ride home, alright?"
Beth shrugs. "Sounds good. Rubber duck yellow Mustang, right?"
The teasing reminder of him telling her Carl's color definition has them both grinning as they leave the staff room. It probably adds to the staging Beth was after, because when he sits at the bar again in the seat saved by the suit jacket left behind, he gets a tap at the bar from Merle, and this time, the grin is genuine. "What's your preference for draft? Got the usuals plus a couple of Georgia crafts."
"Give me a local lager, but I've got food coming. Will probably head for a table." There are strategic televisions all over the bar, almost all set to some sporting event. Rick uses looking at the screens to scan for the man Beth identified as Gorman and gets lucky that the man's at a table beneath a Braves game playing. Thanking Merle for the beer, he drifts to a two seater booth that gives him a good view of cop and ball game.
His evening is pleasant enough, starting with Beth's choice of the aptly named southern burger, topped with fried green tomatoes, pimento cheese, bacon, and avocado ranch. He almost doesn't need the side of baby carrots and broccoli she brings with it.
Beth joins him later on her actual lunch break, easing her legs across his knees under the table. When Rick massages her calves, he doesn't miss the intent stare from the cop he's already labeled as the self important asshole sort that gives all cops a bad name. It makes him wonder if there's more that can be done to dissuade the man, but it's doubtful.
Beth picks at her salad, looking tired and sipping at her water more than actually eating. He's starting to understand why she has such a thin build. Smart enough after years of marriage not to comment on her appetite, he hopes she's at least eaten decently earlier in the day.
The Braves game ends with a win, with a west coast game following. Rick notices his second grumpy observer and suppresses a sigh. Trust his luck for Amanda Shepherd to visit the same bar. At least Beth's fake romance will be reinforced if the entire family hears about it.
A trip to the men's room takes him past Amanda's table, and he wonders a bit at her seeming to hang out in the bar like he is. She doesn't seem to be drinking, based on the fact he knows the drink just delivered to her table looks like rum and coke, but he saw Merle skip the rum part. None of the other Atlanta cops are hanging out with her, and her food is long gone. No one comes to a bar to read, but apparently, Amanda Shepherd does.
She actually ignores him other than that same judgmental stare he got last Saturday. On the return trip, Beth's dropping off a basket of sweet potato fries for Amanda and greets him sweetly in passing, slinging an arm around his waist and boldly introducing him to Amanda. The sour look on the other cop's face doesn't phase Beth, who chatters onward fairly loudly about the lovely pool at Rick's place.
"It's thirty-two stories up, and there's a second infinity pool, too. You feel like you're just going to swim right into the Atlanta skyline!"
Rick opts for besotted and a little dirty old man combined, noting they are within earshot of Gormon's table. "I hadn't noticed the view, not with you and that barely there bikini. And all that sunscreen I had to apply to keep all your pretty skin safe."
When Amanda's glare settles on his pocket, Rick makes a show of retucking the escaping edge of satin back safely into the pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Gorman watching the exchange, as is one of his buddies. Both seem intent on what's in his pocket, just like Amanda. As soon as Beth's called away, he starts to leave, only to hear Amanda call out, "Grimes."
When he looks back, she's definitely pissed off. "Real men don't go for the barely legal. Ever thought about dating someone your own age?"
Reminding himself of Beth's caution about setting the scene, Rick takes the insult personally enough to let his anger creep into his voice. "Sounds like the jealousy of a woman who hasn't been laid in a while, Shepherd. Happy to fix that for you."
If looks could kill, he would be a dead man right now, and he amps it up by smirking at her when she doesn't reply. "No? Well, if you change your mind, let me know. You aren't exactly my type, but I can make an exception. Everyone needs a little love."
As Rick returns to his table, the spot between his shoulder blades itches with all the stares he's getting. More than just Gorman and friends overheard the exchange. It gains him side looks from Gorman all night, and Amanda's glare never fades.
When Beth clocks out and comes to fetch him, he pays for his part of the tab, and Merle doesn't say a word about the large tip he leaves when he sees the tab is under Beth's service code. Placing a protective hand firmly at the small of Beth's back, he catches movement and spies Gorman heading for a vehicle as he shuts Beth's door.
Sliding in the driver's seat, he leans in close enough to be kissing and tells her about their shadow. "Don't feel right taking you home. How weird would it be to bunk at my place? You can take the hideabed in the den or even Carl's room since he's at his mom's this weekend."
Beth tenses at the mention of Gorman and sighs deeply. She doesn't seem scared, but she's tense enough to set off his protective instincts further. "I don't think I would mind that at all. Like I said, I'm not sure he believed Merle about you before tonight."
When Gorman's car follows him all the way to his own parking garage, Rick is glad of the extra caution. Maybe they're committing to more of a show than they intended, but all it does is make Rick determined to figure out this asshole and how to see just how his career can end in early retirement. He'll talk to Shane on Monday. Surely he'll have a few ideas.
Amanda pays her bill, lingering at the bar long enough to watch Gorman follow Rick and the new server out the door. Worried about the interest the corrupt sergeant has in Beth, she makes her way to the parking lot to see Rick is giving the girl a ride, at least. Amanda's seen her taking the bus before, but she knows Merle usually walks out to make sure Beth gets on safely. The danger would be the walk from the bus stop to her dorm on the other end, and no one would stop a cop who is stalking a coed.
She used to frequent the bar irregularly because none of her coworkers know she's related to Merle, and she likes it that way. It's not being ashamed of him, but as a woman, she's already got an uphill battle without being openly related to an ex-con. But the cops she's been trailing visit several times a week, so it's become her own new hangout. If sitting and 'reading' in a bar reinforces the already rock solid reputation for being too uptight for her own damn good back at the precinct, she doesn't care. She rarely absorbs a word, but makes sure she changes the book every two days so it looks like she's actually reading.
When Gorman follows the flashy yellow sports car, she tamps down on the uneasy feeling the man inspires and follows. The joy of a generic car like her silver Honda Civic is that there are hundreds of the plain little cars on the roads, unlike Rick's distinctive Mustang or Gorman's bright red King Ranch Ford truck that's probably never seen an ounce of the work a truck is meant for, ever. The truck paces the Mustang all the way back to Rick's building. Once the sports car disappears behind the security gates, Gorman heads on by.
Amanda finds herself shaking her head as she keeps following Gorman. If the college girl is foolish enough to be screwing a man twice her age, it's not Amanda's problem. If the idea of that scrap of green satin peeking out from the asshole's pocket makes her skin crawl, she hopes it crawled even further up Gorman's ass. And that chatter about the pool and Beth in a bikini? Offering to fuck Amanda so casually, like it is a favor?
Amanda nearly punched him in the nuts right then and there. Only Gorman's smirking asshole presence stopped her. She'll just have to settle for wishing the man a painful, penis rotting STD instead. Jesus, if Rick Grimes gets any more typically midlife crisis male, they'll need to give him his own wikipedia entry as a definition for it.
But Gorman's attention on the girl? That's not safe. The more Amanda digs discreetly into what's going on behind the scenes, the more she realizes that they aren't just shaking down the low level drug dealers or miscounting money turned in on busts to pad their pockets. Just yesterday, she took a report from a prostitute complaining that she was required to give two unnamed cops a freebie to avoid an arrest, and the description? It's disturbingly like Gorman and his closest pal, O'Donnell.
The lieutenant told Amanda to bury the complaint, since it's obviously just a disgruntled hooker looking to spite a cop who interfered with her illegal behavior, and it's yet another layer of worry to wonder just how widespread this collection of dirty cops goes. She prays the lieutenant isn't part of it, because Dawn Lerner's been her mentor since she joined the force, back when the stern older woman was just a sergeant. She taught Amanda all the extras that Bob Lamson wouldn't have thought to pass on, because they're specific to being a female cop surviving in a very testosterone imbued environment. Bob's a good man, but he's got blinders of a sort to the cops that aren't as good natured as he is.
Pressuring some college girl into sex seems to fit exactly into that line of behavior, and the fact that Gorman trailed the girl to Rick's place makes her even more wary. With any luck, Gorman will back off from another cop's girlfriend, but she needs to keep a close eye on it. Beth Greene is too damned sweet to get caught up in that slimeball bastard's web.
Gorman needs to go. She just isn't sure how in the hell to manage it yet.
A/N: Early posting thank you for a whole lot of beta reading inkribbon has been doing. 😉. She talked me out of a Carol/Lori today, I kid you not. My mind is a very Alice in Wonderland place sometimes...
I really need to take this story out of the rotation list, as it will show up randomly and more often compared to the others.
Beth's role expanded from a small one to pretty much being a third main character. There's a pairing (*points upward*) which is primarily as a reminder this isn't Rickyl or any common pairing for Beth in canon or fanon. It won't even show up until last chapter (and might not be set in stone, other than rare pair for sure).
A hint on Beth's role:
Sing with us...secret agent Beth, secret agent Beth... (Umm, I think that's plagiarizing a TV show theme song, oops!)