A/N Love the love, thank you all so much for the faves, the follows and the comments. This has been a lot of fun for me to write. I love this fierce, volatile, but very tender Daryl. This offering was supposed to be a collection of different little fics, but you asked for more "Diet" and that's what you're getting, for now :-) I intend this story to be Daryl speak (POV) for the most part, but I thought if we're going to keep at this, we ought to find out what's going through Beth's mind once in a while. Also, I thought y'all would like to know how they met in the first place. So here we go, and then we'll get back to how Daryl is dealing with life. It's never easy to be Daryl.

Beth's POV

She was watching him walk the floor with D.J., and thinking how much she loved him and her mind wandered to how they'd met.

Everything about Daryl was intense and the night they met was no exception. She smiled remembering, 'whirlwind romance' wasn't quite accurate, it was faster than that.

After she'd exhausted the four music and four art class offerings, she lost interest in college. She took a job as the receptionist at Grover Electronics to fund her life while she figured out her next move. When they were bought out by a mega corporation everyone had lost their job. She had some savings, plus her unused college money, and she'd decided she'd keep living in the apartment she and Amy shared, until she had to move back to the farm with her mom and dad. So far, she was hanging on.

She'd been singing a set or two on Friday and Saturday nights at a small bar and eatery catering to college students. They were able to give her a Monday through Friday job waitressing during the busy lunch hour. She wasn't making much money, but it paid for meals and helped toward the rent.

She was just strumming the first chord of Tom Waits' "Hold On" when he walked in. To say he stood out in the crowd would be an understatement. He was at least 10 years older than the other customers, and he definitely looked more like a biker than a college student. He had long dark hair, plenty of facial scruff, and he was wearing a black t-shirt, a black leather vest, black jeans and black motorcycle boots.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and he couldn't seem to take his off her. It was like they were having a staring contest – with lightning bolts.

He continued to stand there watching her until she completed her set. She walked off the small stage and right to him, she didn't say anything, just looked at him, he said, "Girl, you are so damn beautiful I can't take my eyes offa you. Can I buy ya somethin' ta drink, or somethin' ta eat, or a house or a car, or any fuckin' thing you want?" The weird thing was, it didn't even sound like a pick-up line or come on, it sounded like he meant every word.

So she smiled, "How about we start with a glass of wine?"

They went to the bar and he asked her what she'd like, he ordered the Pinot she requested and himself a draft. He simply said, "I'm Daryl Dixon."

So she said, "I'm Beth Greene."

"Well Beth Greene, I ain't sure what the hell ta do. I got no game, I just know I wanna be with ya, spend time with ya. When do ya get off work?"

She couldn't believe she was going along with this, she was usually so cautious about everything, especially guys. "I have one more set, what do you have in mind Mister Dixon."

That made him almost smile, "Yer gonna be trouble for me Greene, I can see it comin'."

"I don't cause trouble," she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Yer causing me trouble right now. I should go on home and fix myself some dinner. Instead I'ma hang around here 'til yer off work then I'ma beg ya ta get on the back a my motorcycle and ride off with me."

"Okay, I'll go," she said softly.

"Serious?" He was surprised.

"Yes, I'm serious, but I want a helmet," she smiled.

"Shit girl, I'll give ya mine, my jacket, my vest, whatever ya want it's yours," now he did smile.

They ended up at his cabin in the woods. She loved it. It wasn't big but it had a spacious feel, with a great living area, a nice kitchen, a couple of bedrooms, and a big bathroom. It had a wonderful front porch complete with a couple of wooden rocking chairs. It seemed just like a place he would belong, it was him.

They sat on his big overstuffed sofa and talked. She remembered how reluctant he was to talk about himself, he wanted to know about her.

He offered to cook her dinner, make her a drink, whatever she wanted. He seemed genuinely interested in pleasing her. He was attentive and anxious without seeming at all creepy or fake. In fact, she would bet money there wasn't one thing phony about Daryl Dixon.

She had to practically pry information out of him with a crowbar. Oh he was fine with telling her about his job, his hobbies, his place, his motorcycle, but he was uncomfortable talking about himself. She'd find out all the awful reasons as their relationship progressed, and she would come to see him as a true survivor.

"I ain't kiddin' when I tell ya I'm not the kinda guy that brings women home from a bar, or from anywhere else. I finished buildin' this place five years ago and yer the first woman's ever been here. I ain't one a them guys. But when I saw ya, I just knew I wanted ya here with me."

She wasn't sure how to respond, and she was shocked when she heard herself say, "Then why haven't you kissed me Daryl Dixon?"

And he did, and they did, and then they ended up in his bedroom, and then he showed her what it was like to have a man make love to her, not just have sex, but have him hold her, touch her and claim her like he worshipped her, loved her and wanted nothing more than to bring her happiness and pleasure.

Like everyone, Beth had her own insecurities, and in the morning she thought to herself, well now he'll probably hurry up and get me home, tell me he'll call me and I'll never hear from him again. I can't believe I'm so stupid. Why did I just give myself to him so easily?

But Daryl Dixon surprised her when he asked, "Ya like eggs? I can cook pretty good eggs and toast, and I don't make a bad pot a coffee, sound okay?" He was propped up on one elbow leaning over her, with a sincere look on his face like he was hoping she'd agree to let him cook for her.

"That sounds very nice Daryl, but let me help," she smiled, suddenly feeling shy and she could tell she was blushing.

"Nah, I got this, yer turn next time. Then we'll just make breakfast tagether after that."

She couldn't quite believe it, had he just said next time and beyond? Wow.

And after breakfast he wanted to take her in his pick up to get her stuff, and she still couldn't quite believe she'd agreed. They got her things, mostly just some clothes, shoes, toiletries, her guitar, and her ancient car, and she'd never looked back.

Well, there was that day she got her psycho freak-out on, when she'd first known positively she was pregnant. She was pretty sure she knew when it happened, because they were always careful. But there was that Saturday afternoon Merle had shown up with jars of moonshine and they had all gotten a little crazy. Merle had ended up passed out on their sofa, and she and Daryl had gone to bed, gotten frisky, and hadn't even thought about protection. As Daryl liked to say, "That dumbass Merle."

She was just glad she'd finally calmed down and gone home to the person she needed most.

And now as she looked at her husband, holding their baby boy and whispering to the baby how great that baby is and how much he loves him, she knew why she fell in love with this wonderfully quirky, angsty, over protective, and intense man. He was her everything and there wasn't one thing she would ever change about him. She was his and he was hers and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was the luckiest woman in the world.

Daryl's POV

He was looking at her sitting on the sofa, just kind of staring off. He knew she was tired, but she didn't complain. D.J. had been going through a bout of bellyaches – she called 'em colic - and she'd been up a lot the last couple nights.

He had wanted to go with her to the doc, and she'd let him, but this time she laid down the law. There wasn't gonna be none a this raging into Doc Bob's office raising hell and demanding answers. She appreciated how concerned he always was, and the way he cared for her and their baby, but she wasn't gonna have him blowing a gasket over everything. She'd let him know when he needed to break out the big guns, other than that they was just there to make sure things were fine and to ask calm, sensible questions.

He promised he'd try.

He got to thinking about how he'd come to be with her, and it made him smile a little as he cuddled D.J. closer.

He'd never been in that college kid bar, never planned to go there. He and Merle were more of the dive bar on the edge of town kinda guys. But it had been a bitch of a day at work with some bad parts comin' in and a deadline breathin' down his neck. Thank God it's Friday. He was just gonna have one cold one, go home and grill a chop, then smooth everything out with a little Jack D.

But when he walked in that bar and saw her, he didn't give a fuck what had happened that day, how hungry he was, or if a herd a fuckin' zombies came in the joint. He was hypnotized. She was perfect.

Her hair was blond and pulled up in some kind of off center ponytail, all kinds of hairs seemed to have gotten lose and it was sexy as hell. She appeared awfully small, a little underfed, but it was workin' for her and for him. She had the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen, pale white skin, and damn, she sang like a fuckin' angel.

He felt like the dirty old man he was, but he just couldn't take his eyes off her. She must have been okay with that, cuz she was lookin' at him every bit as hard as he was lookin' at her.

When she stopped singing she'd come right up to him. He didn't know how he'd ever had the nerve ta say anythin' to her. He was no talker, and he sure didn't know nuthin' about how ta talk ta women. Now that dumbass Merle, he was one smooth talkin' chippie chaser.

When Daryl got laid it was cuz some drunk broad was all over his drunk ass in a bar and they'd have a quick roll, and that was that. No strings.

But this woman, this woman was the kind ya got all stupid over and just handed her yer balls.

Whatever he managed to spit out, she musta thought it was okay, cuz she went home with him.

He never thought he'd like havin' a woman on the back a his bike, but he liked havin' her there with her arms around him. And she looked fuckin' adorable in his helmet, which was way too big for her.

He sure never had a woman to his place, never wanted one ta even know where he lived. But he wanted her there. He didn't like sittin' around talkin', but he liked talkin' ta her.

And when she asked him why he hadn't kissed her he did, and he never wanted ta stop.

He knew he never wanted a permanent woman, never wanted no one ta live with him. He liked bein' on his own. But damn, he wanted her there. Didn't even wanna stay there himself without her. And she said okay. And that's when he felt like his life really started, when Beth came to live with him in the cabin.

When they had ta tell her ma and pops she was pregnant, he didn't think he'd live through it. And when her pops had immediately announced they was gettin' married, he was panicked. But the real truth was, he never wanted ta be without her, and he was happy ta marry her, but he was such a dumbass he never thought ta ask her hisself.

He never thought he wanted ta have a baby, but he wanted ta have one with her.

The pregnancy had nearly done him in, he was so worried about her. He knew he'd acted like a raving fuckin' maniac, but hey, nuthin' new about that. He'd do anything ta protect her, and when he couldn't fix her symptoms, he just wanted someone else to.

She knew he wasn't gonna read the fuckin' baby book, so about a week before D.J. was born she'd had her mama come ta the house and she sat down with the two of 'em. But really? It was all about Beth and her ma takin' him ta school. They told him about babies, what to expect, the things babies went through, the colic, the teethin', the spittin' up, the sleepless nights, all of it. Her ma kept reassuring him that his baby was gonna be just fine.

And then her mama said, "Daryl, I love you, you're my son now. I ask you most sincerely, when you get overwhelmed with worry and concern, please call me, I'll come over, I'll check on the baby. I don't want you getting an ulcer, and I surely don't want you going to jail because you've killed the doctor. Okay?"

And he promised he wouldn't kill the doc. He liked her ma.

And when he looked at his Beth he knew there was never gonna be any better thing in his life than her and her sweet love. She was all his and he was all hers; and he knew like he knew his own fuckin' name that he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

A/N So there you have it. Next time we'll check in and see how Daryl is handling Daddy Duty. Thank you so much for reading, please review. xo