It was a fact that, only every now and then, there wasn't anyone but the misfits in the bar. Sometimes there was a passing bike gang Merle had invited, or maybe even a brave old clutch of townies - trying to reclaim what they thought was theirs. But, aside from those occasions, Lori's remained nearly empty. Everyone else was too scared of what might come of socializing with them. They were unsavory folk after all and it was a slightly satisfying feeling, to at least have that much control, in a town that hated most of them.

However, the feeling of control flipped a little bit that night.

Around 10 o'clock, already knee deep in booze and crude conversation, Daryl heard the crashing the door and the exhaustive high pitch of giggling. Along with all the others, he turned around and watched has half the staff from the diner walked in. Or rather...stumbled in. They were very, very tipsy; which meant that they were in no way scared of any of them, and they were going to have their fun.

Daryl couldn't help but let his eyes shift around the familiar crowd until they landed on exactly who he was looking for. In tow with all the rest of them, there was Beth; who was looking very sober and very uncomfortable. There was a lot that was probably contributing to her discomfort, but Daryl's main guess was the dress they'd gotten her in to; it was little, black and hugged every single curve almost perfectly. However, that didn't stop the blonde - who's locks were still in a tangled pony - from repeatedly tugging at the hem. As if that would make it any longer.

"What in the hell?" Jim exclaimed. Daryl whipped his head back towards the rest of him group. Surely they'd want to get rid of them. They didn't belong there, that was for sure.

The only problem with that was that he'd forgotten the power of short skirts and batting eyelashes (not to mention trying to get a group of drunk girls together was like trying to herd cats). Every single man at the table was staring, and Daryl was amazed they were stopping themselves from drooling. Lori, who seemed pleased as punch, was already mixing drinks as the girls took some seats far too close to them. For a split second Daryl made eye contact with Beth, before Annabelle blocked his view.

"Ladies." Lori greeted them with a smile as she walked over with a tray full of drinks. "First round is on me tonight."

The girls cheered loudly as she began to set fruity little pink shot glasses down. It wasn't much later that every single glass was empty — except for one — and they only grew louder. With enough booze in them, soon enough, Daryl knew they'd be social butterflies.

. . .

Beth knew the other girls were having much more fun than her, as they continued to drink. For a long time, she sat with her water glass and waited for hell to break loose. However, no one yelled or broke any glasses, and any bitchy comment was forgotten as they tossed back another shot. It certainly wasn't the drinking she'd become accustomed to in her lifetime. She didn't quite understand drinking as social matter; nor did she understand drinking as a social matter for adults.

She wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to do. So, she followed along with the girls and tried to feed off their energy. She'd slipped into Annabelle's tiny dress to make the girls at least a little happy when she announced she wasn't going to drink. She was even going to let them glam her completely up, until they got to the point of drinking where their eyeliner looked like a toddler scribbles.

"You won't take one?" Annabelle asked earlier when Lori set down another full tray of pretty pink liquor. Beth just continued to just shake her head and sip at her nearly empty glass of water. She still laughed at the dirty jokes she didn't quite get, and cooed with the others as they teased Daryl's friends. But with every passing moment, her chest felt a little tighter.

She wasn't sure why, in a room full of people, she felt all that alone.

"Excuse me." Beth pushed herself up from her seat, with intentions of getting more water. Somehow, Lori had seemed to forget all about bringing her a refill. As she turned, she caught a quick reflection of herself in the big windows. She scanned her reflection. Beth wondered if she'd looked that miserable all night, and, if anyone had noticed. She hoped they didn't.

However, as soon as she found herself hoping and wondering, she made contact with another reflection. Daryl was looking directly at her. Although, she couldn't figure out by his expression whether he was concerned or just drunk. She decided to keep moving towards the bar and just flash a quick smile at her new roommate.

When Beth finally made it to the bar, she found herself standing and waiting for Lori, who had made another run to the tables – without her water of course. She hummed to herself while she waited and tapped on the counter rhythmically. She wished there was some music, then maybe she wouldn't be so distracted by her own self pity.

"Hey."

Beth turned around to a familiar voice. Daryl had gotten up from his table and walked over. She nodded. "Hi."

"What's up" Daryl sat on the closest bar stool and suddenly he swayed a little bit. Beth didn't know whether she should roll her eyes or laugh. She'd, obviously, never seen him like that before. Instead she just shrugged. "You don't look like you're having a whole lot of fun."

Looked like he was both concerned and drunk – but it's not like he was wrong. Beth began to chew on the inside of her cheek. "If I drink, what if I'm someone I don't like?" She asked. Or worse, what if it she was someone she did like?

"Does your mom drink?"

It had been Annette that made the house dry the first time her Herschel cleaned up his act. Beth was only little then but she could remember, on the nights her father was out of town or otherwise engaged, her mom would carefully sip at a small glasses of red wine. She used to collect them in the cellar before. That is, until she noticed them going missing when the bar had finally cut Herschel off.

Beth nodded.

"And? Is she a drunk like your daddy was?" Daryl asked.

Beth cringed at how blunt his question was, but she still answered. "No."

"So, just 'cause one person can't handle their booze in your house, don't mean you can't." Daryl shrugged and took a sip of a nearly empty glass, filled with a honey brown liquid.

Beth considered what he said for a moment. She'd never once seen her mother throw a tantrum after a glass or two or wine. Maggie and drank straight away when she went to college, and the only regretted the days she had a hangover. Shawn hadn't touched anything since Hershel died, but he used to love sneaking off to barn and field parties. Maybe Daryl had a good point. Or at least, maybe she should try it out for real herself before swearing it off for good.

"Alright." Beth nodded and started walking over to her table again. "I'll take one of those shots."

Daryl laughed. "You don't want one those. I'm pretty sure by now Lori is just filling them with water and grenadine."

"Then what?" Beth asked.

"Here, you might like this." Daryl handed her his drink and Beth stared at it blankly. "It's whiskey."

She smelt it first and an oaky aroma filled her nostrils. She really didn't mind the smell at all. It didn't smell sticky sweat, but it didn't burn her eyes with how strong the scent was. Okay, might as well get it over with. There was only a little bit left and Beth quickly tipped back the glass and swallowed, the alcohol still stung going down.

Beth set it back down in front of Daryl. She looked at him…and he looked slightly horrified. "What?"

"That…that's not how you drink whiskey."

"Then how?" Beth felt her cheeks go red, although she knew she shouldn't feel embarrassed for being an amateur.

"I'll show you." Daryl laughed and called out to Lori, who had some point had snuck back behind the bar. "Whiskey…straight. For Beth."

Lori smiled, realizing he was serious and grabbed a glass. "Top shelf. On the house."

"Oh." Beth exclaimed as she watched Lori reached up…as high as her belly would let her and grab hold of a dark, rich looking bottle. On the shelf, right beside the bottle, Beth noticed a dusky old CD player, the kind she had plugged in her room when she was a kid. "Does that thing work?"

AN: Yes, I am still writing this story. I just may have forgotten to mention my hiatus, due to the fact I was in Europe for a couple months. My bad.