Warning: the last half of this chapter contains explicit sexual content.

i got nothing to do but be with you

"Wha – Mal? Mal?!" Beth said, her voice rising as the panic bloomed inside her chest. She rushed to the end of the aisle, looking both ways and searching for the toddler. "Malachi!"

She listened for him, stepping out and checking down the next aisle, then the next. Her heart was racing and she'd tossed the cartons of ice cream into the handbasket hanging from her arm, whipping her head back and forth as she desperately searched for the little blond boy.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh no, Daryl will be back any second, Beth thought, panicking and turning around to check the aisles in the opposite direction. There were a few other shoppers, but none of them seemed to be paying attention to her and there was no sign of Malachi. She was nearly five aisles away from the frozen foods section when she spotted another little kid standing at the end of the baking aisle about thirty feet away.

Maybe that kid saw Mal, she thought, rushing toward the child.

Before she could get close to the kid, though, Daryl's voice caught her attention and she turned back to see him standing at the end of the frozen foods aisle, staring at her quizzically with his hands held out. As soon as she'd paused and he could see that Mal wasn't with her, he quickly walked over to her.

"Where's Mal?" He asked, glancing around.

Beth's voice expressed the panic she was feeling as she replied, "I – I don't know, he ran off and – "

"What?!" Daryl cried. His face completely changed and he immediately stepped away from Beth to glance over her shoulder and look around wildly while calling his son's name. "Where – where'd you last see him? Mal?! Malachi!"

Beth's mouth had gone completely dry and the panic had turned to icy fear in her veins. "I – he was right there! We were lookin' at ice cream an' I turned around for two seconds, I turned back and he was just gone!"

"Jesus Christ – go find an employee while I look for him," Daryl ordered, eyes wild as he continued looking around in every direction, stepping away and checking down aisles. "Tell 'em my fuckin' kid's missing – hurry!"

Beth nodded and turned to race off toward the front of the store, but before she could get more than twenty feet away, she heard Daryl's voice again.

"Mala – oh, Jesus fuckin' Christ, there you are!"

She turned back and saw Daryl rushing toward the direction of the baking aisle, where Beth had seen the other kid. She picked up her pace and followed him, spotting Malachi emerging from the aisle with a grin on his face. Daryl reached him within seconds and swooped him up in his arms, picking him up as Beth approached them from behind.

Malachi looked unfazed, completely unaware of the panic he'd caused as he began excitedly talking to his father. "Dad! I – we found – "

"Why'd you run off like that?!" Daryl asked, but the relief was obvious in his voice. "I 'bout had a damn heart attack, boy!"

Mal looked surprised, eyes growing wide. "What – I'm sorry, Dad, I jus' – "

The middle-aged woman that had been standing toward the end of the baking aisle with her child appeared a bit confused but smiled politely. "There's your dad! Sorry, hun, he came outta nowhere over here. I think he saw my son and wanted to play – he's quite the talker!"

The lady's child looked to be a couple years older than Mal, and he stood at his mother's side with a toy in his hand, watching the exchange curiously while grinning at Malachi.

Daryl sighed in relief. "'S alright – sorry 'bout that, he slipped away when we had our backs turned. I was about a second away from askin' 'em ta lockdown the store."

The woman chuckled understandingly and put a hand softly on her son's shoulder. "No problem, I know how kids can be! This one's done that to me more times than I can count."

"Thanks again," Daryl muttered, turning and stepping away with Malachi still in his arms.

Beth watched silently and stepped back when he turned around, moving out of his way as he headed back in the direction of the frozen foods aisle before she followed. They rounded a corner and walked in silence for a moment, Mal babbling on about what he'd run off for as he forgot about the panic he'd caused his dad.

When they'd gotten out of earshot of any other customers, Daryl turned to face Beth and gently put Malachi down on the floor, grabbing his hand and keeping him close. He looked at Beth with a stern expression on his face and she could still traces of anger smoldering in his dark blue eyes.

Before he could say anything, she started, "Daryl, I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't – "

But he cut her off, snapping, "You can't take yer eyes off this kid fer even a second, let alone two. You understand me? A kid got snatched up jus' two blocks from here last week an' they didn't find his body till yesterday – that coulda been my kid."

Beth's heart dropped to the very bottom of her stomach and she swallowed hard past a painful knot in her throat. She nodded, speechless as she stared up into Daryl's furious gaze with wide eyes. His voice was tense and restrained and she didn't think she'd ever seen him this upset before. It was different from the anger she'd seen on the night of Rosita's party because she could see the fear mixed in, and it only made her feel even worse. But she knew that he was completely right to be so upset, and she could do nothing but apologize and feel horrible about it.

Malachi wasn't paying any attention to the adults' conversation and pulled on his dad's hand. "C'mon, Dad – let's get gween beans!"

Daryl nodded to his son and Beth muttered weakly, "I'm sorry…"

He pursed his lips and nodded, eyebrows raised in a stern expression while his eyes lingered on Beth's for a second. Then he turned and let Mal lead him out of the aisle and away. Beth followed a couple feet behind, the handbasket still hanging from her arm. Her hands were still trembling and she focused on trying to steady them and slow her racing heart.

The boys led the way toward the produce section, where they went to a refrigerated shelf stacked full with all different kinds of green vegetables. Beth stood back and watched as Daryl grabbed a plastic bag and opened it, then held it out and instructed Mal to grab handfuls of fresh green beans and place them inside the bag. The toddler did so, struggling to grasp the beans and keep them from falling to the floor. Daryl chuckled and helped him while Beth watched with a faint smile, her heartbeat returning to normal. The guilt had settled heavily in her gut.

They picked out a couple of other vegetables and fruits, then found their way to the dairy aisle to grab some more butter, then to the meat department, where Daryl inspected various packages of raw chicken before deciding on a suitable choice and handing it to Beth to place in the basket. Then they picked up a couple other seasonings from a nearby aisle and headed toward the checkout.

Beth kept her mouth closed the entire time, standing back and observing Daryl and Malachi together as they shopped and Daryl answered several of Mal's questions about food, the store, and price tags. Beth hadn't even realized that Mal was learning to read until she saw him pointing to a sign and slowly sounding out the word "apple" aloud to his father. She refrained from asking any questions, though, or engaging with the toddler. For now, she felt that Daryl would be better off if she pretended to be invisible. Mal, too, for that matter.

On their way to check out, Daryl stopped in the ice cream aisle and gestured for Beth to step closer. She did and he reached into the basket to pull out the two cartons of ice cream she'd tossed inside earlier, placing them back inside one of the freezers wordlessly. Then he grabbed a different carton and placed it in the basket before turning and leading Mal out of the aisle. Beth followed, looking into the basket to see a container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream made by a natural foods company. She remained quiet and followed the boys to the end of one of the lines at the check stands.

When it came time to pay, she pulled out one of the bills she'd brought along and handed it over the counter to the cashier before Daryl could open his wallet. While the cashier counted out the change, Beth gave Daryl a weak smile, but he didn't look exactly pleased. He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket and mumbled, "Didn't have ta do that, but thanks."

They left the store in silence – or rather, Beth and Daryl were in silence. Malachi continued to jabber on, asking questions and telling stories and generally talking just to talk while he carried one of the paper bags from the store. But Beth remained silent as she trailed a foot or two behind the boys on the sidewalk, and Daryl answered his son's questions and made comments about his stories without saying a word to Beth. She did, however, notice that he was still glancing back at her every couple of minutes, as if he were making sure she was still there. She pretended not to notice and kept her head low, sunglasses over her eyes and gaze set on the sidewalk and buildings up ahead.

The sun was nearing the horizon when they reached the apartment building, the breeze blowing colder and the sky transitioning to a purplish-blue. They passed through the lobby, empty and quiet, and climbed the stairs. Daryl didn't let go of Malachi's hand until they'd reached the door to apartment 3A and he was pulling the keys from his pocket, paper bag dangling from his wrist. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside for Mal and Beth to enter the apartment before he trailed in behind them.

"Alright, boy, you'll get yer green beans," Daryl announced as he took the bag from Mal's hand and set it on the counter along with the one he'd been carrying. "How's some a that good ol' southern fried chicken sound?"

Malachi's face lit up and he did a little happy dance, eliciting a chuckle from Beth as she stood by and watched. It felt like being back in the apartment had lightened the tension and she could see Daryl relaxing again as he watched his son with a small smile. Then he glanced at Beth, his eyebrows raised expectantly. She gave him a quizzical look, the guilt from earlier still twinging in her gut.

"Sound good?" He asked her.

Her heart did the smallest jump and she nodded. "Yeah, sounds great."

He nodded in affirmation and turned back to the bags on the counter, setting about pulling the groceries out and putting them away in the fridge and cabinets. Mal rushed off to the bedroom, disappearing without another word.

Beth stood awkwardly in the hall for a moment, watching Daryl put groceries away and pull out ingredients for dinner. She turned to head down the hall and see what Mal was up to when Daryl's voice made her stop.

"Hey."

She turned back to the kitchen and stepped up to the threshold, looking at Daryl expectantly. She felt more nervous than usual around him, still unsure of how angry he was from earlier. She didn't blame him, though – she was angry at herself, too. She still couldn't believe she'd made such a mistake and put Daryl's son at risk like that.

"Sorry – fer blowin' up on ya like that," he muttered, glancing at her eyes and looking away quickly to focus on what he was doing at the counter. But she could hear the remorse in his voice. "Well, I mean, I ain't sorry fer gettin' mad. But I didn't mean ta make ya feel so shitty – I know it was a mistake. 'S not like I never had him run off on me in public before… It's just some scary shit. Sets me off."

Beth shrugged, staring at the profile of Daryl's face as she spoke. "No need to apologize… I need t'work on remembering that I'm in a big city now. I'm sorry, again. I really am. I didn't – "

He interrupted her, shaking his head, "Stop apologizin'. I know what it's like. Got mugged about four times after the firs' year I moved 'fore I realized how different things are up here… It's somethin' else. Takes a while ta get used to."

Beth nodded, pursing her lips and swallowing back another instinctive apology. "Still… you had every right t'be mad. I know there's… lotsa bad people out there nowadays. He's your kid, of course you'd be upset."

And scared, she wanted to say. But she got the sense that he'd be offended if she suggested that he felt fearful. And the last thing she wanted to do right now was make him angry again.

Daryl shrugged at her words but his indifference was transparent. He waited a few seconds before muttering, "I shouldn'ta left him with ya in the first place. He's not yer responsibility – that's my bad."

Beth furrowed her brow and frowned. "It ain't – I can handle watchin' a toddler for short periods of time. It was just an accident."

Daryl started, "I know, but he ain't yours – "

She cut him off, "That doesn't mean I care about him any less than if he were…"

She could see him pursing his lips and glancing at her, then looking back down at the chicken in front of him thoughtfully while he worked. He seemed to be trying to decide if he should believe her or not. He mumbled quietly, "S'pose…"

Beth didn't say anything else, waiting to see if he had anything else to say about it. But apparently, he didn't. She hoped he understood that just because Malachi wasn't hers didn't mean she was going to get careless with him. What kind of person did he really think she was?

Or maybe this was one of his ways of figuring that out for certain. She decided not to press the matter and left the silence hanging between them.

She watched him work for another moment or two before she asked softly, "You want some help makin' supper?"

He looked over at her. "I think I got it. Unless you got a better recipe fer fried chicken than me."

She smirked and approached him, gazing down at the ingredients he had laid out on the counter. "I might – you put paprika in the breading, right?"

He grunted in a half-chuckle. "'Course. An' lots of other seasonings. My momma's recipe."

Beth smiled. "Well then, I can't wait ta try it – maybe I'll make my momma's recipe next time."

He glanced at her with a small smile. "I'll hold ya to it. Can't wait ta compare our mommas' cooking."

She giggled and nodded, then spotted the bag of green beans sitting at the other end of the counter. "Want some help snappin' the green beans?"

Daryl shrugged. "If ya want."

An idea popped into her head and she smiled again. "You ever taught Mal how ta destem green beans?"

He shook his head. "Nah, kid's got the attention span of a goldfish. Carol usually has better luck with stuff like that."

Beth chuckled. "I don't doubt it. But maybe I can try t'show him."

Before Daryl could say anything else, she turned and headed out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom at the end. She found Malachi sitting on his side of the bedroom floor, playing with his toys while he was lost in his own little world. He looked up to see Beth and grinned.

"Rosie!" The toddler exclaimed, a small action figure clutched in each hand.

"Hey, whatcha doin'?" Beth asked cheerfully, squatting down on the carpet beside Mal until she was resting on her knees and looking over the large scene of toys he'd set up.

"Oh, I – this is the, this is the bad guys and – and, um, these is the good guys," Mal explained excitedly, pointing to various toys and explaining his imaginative storylines for them.

Beth leaned in close and listened attentively, inspecting each toy closely and nodding along to Mal's words. She pointed to a blonde Barbie doll set up on the far edge of the gathering of toys. The Barbie was sitting next to an action figure that looked like one of the characters from the zombie show Daryl liked to watch. "And who is this?"

Mal's eyes lit up and he pointed to the Barbie and the action figure, as well as a small Lego man that was sitting between them, with two other toys still clutched in his tiny fists as he tripped over his words and tried to explain. "That – oh, that's um, that – okay, this is you, an' that's Dad – oh, and this is me!"

Beth's smile faded and she furrowed her brow, watching as Mal set down the toys in his hand and petted the blonde hair of the Barbie doll affectionately with a grin on his face. Then she asked, "Oh – it is?"

The toddler nodded happily and pointed to the action figures and dolls surrounding "Rosie" and "Daryl" and "Malachi." He went on to say, "Yeah! And – and these is all the bad guys. Well, okay, there's this one, an' he's good, an' this one is um, he's uh – that one's a good guy, too. But all these are bad guys an' they – they're twyin' ta take you away. But me an' Dad won't let 'em!"

Then he set down the toys in his hand and grabbed another Barbie that was sitting on the edge of the gathering of action figures to hold it up and show Beth. "And this – this is, um, this one's Carol, an' she's helpin' us um, she's helpin' puh – pwo…"

Beth watched as his big, blue eyes squinted in concentration and he stared at the doll in his hand, struggling with the word he was trying to pronounce. She quickly realized what he was trying to say and suggested, "Protect…?"

"Yeah!" Mal grinned, eyes lighting up again. "She's helpin' pwuh-teck you!"

Beth wasn't sure why but dread blossomed in her stomach and she nodded, keeping a smile on her face as she gazed at the toddler thoughtfully. She spotted another action figure that seemed out of place, set a few inches from where the Barbie had been.

"And who's that?" She asked curiously, pointing to the action figure.

Mal looked over at the toy and his grin seemed to falter. His voice was less excited as he replied, "Oh – he's a bad guy. A real bad guy. We have ta keep you from him."

Beth raised her eyebrows in intrigue and decided not to ask any more questions. It was obvious that Malachi had a wild imagination. She smiled again and listened as he explained a few other dolls' roles in his little play, then grew distracted and began playing out his fantasies once more.

"Hey – you wanna help me an' Dad make dinner?" She suggested, watching as he looked up at her with a newfound spark of interest and excitement. "You ever taken the stems off green beans before?"

Mal shook his head, eyes wide. "No – can we um, can we do that?! Me an' Carol, we um, we snapped peas this one time."

She chuckled and nodded. "Okay, it's kinda like that! C'mon, let's go! I'll teach you how."

With a big grin on his face, the toddler dropped his toys and immediately forgot about whatever imaginary scene he'd been playing out. He jumped up and followed Beth out the bedroom door, down the hall and back to the kitchen, where Daryl was rinsing green beans in the sink.

"Dad, we're gonna help you!" Mal announced as he rushed up behind his father excitedly.

Daryl looked over his shoulder and down at his son, hands wet with chicken juices. "You are?"

Mal nodded, grinning.

Beth proceeded to collect the rinsed green beans from the sink and grab the trash can, leaning down and showing Mal how to snap the stems off each individual green bean. He picked up quick and within minutes, they had a pile of destemmed green beans on the counter. Malachi giggled and fidgeted in place as Beth cracked jokes and playfully grabbed beans from his hands. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl moving from the counter to the stove to prepare the pan with cooking oil and glancing at them as he did so. She thought she'd caught a small smile of amusement on his face before he turned his gaze back toward the chicken.

Mal thoroughly enjoyed helping Beth prepare the vegetables, and when they were done, she led him out to the living room and grabbed some of his toys to keep his attention while Daryl fried the chicken and cooked up the green beans. The smells of food quickly filled the small apartment and Beth opened one of the windows in the living room to let in the cool, evening breeze. The sky was darkening outside as the sun dipped behind the horizon, but the city was still plenty alive with lights and noise.

Beth sat with Mal and played while Daryl cooked, listening to the toddler's extravagant stories and going along with his imaginative plots. She hadn't realized how much time passed until Daryl was announcing that dinner was almost ready. She took that as her cue to begin setting the table, and Mal was more than eager to help. Before long, the three of them were sitting in their usual chairs at the table, plates full of fried chicken, green beans, and rolls sitting before them.

Mal provided the entertainment, as he normally did, while Beth and Daryl ate and tried to encourage him to feed himself in a somewhat neat manner. Beth made sure to compliment Daryl's momma's fried chicken recipe and he smiled sheepishly in response right before taking another large bite of the chicken breast in his hands. The apartment was full of delicious smells and the sounds of laughter and clinking silverware. When they finished their meals, Daryl scooped out three small bowls of ice cream and they had another battle with Mal and his spoon. Beth found herself laughing between bites of ice cream, and something about it felt normal. In a way, she felt like she was enjoying something as much as she could while she had it. All the guilt, worry, and dread that had been knotting up inside Beth's gut seemed to evaporate. For the evening, she was fine with pretending that the world outside of this little apartment with Daryl and Malachi didn't exist.

By the time they'd finished eating dessert and cleaning up, it was nearly Mal's bedtime. Daryl asked how he wanted to spend the rest of the evening, as he had several choices between reading, watching TV, or playing. But the toddler seemed to already have an idea in mind and gleefully requested that "Rosie" play her "guh-tar" for them. And with two pairs of soft, blue eyes looking to her expectantly, how could Beth say no?

She sat on the couch and played guitar while Daryl sat a few feet away and Malachi danced around the living room and sang with her. Daryl mostly sat back and watched with an amused half-smile, sipping a small glass of whiskey and occasionally nodding his head along to the music. Mal requested a handful of kids' songs and luckily, Beth knew all of them. Then she played a few simple Beatles songs, all of which Mal surprisingly recognized (Daryl explained that was thanks to Carol). By the time the toddler (and Daryl) were suggesting she play "Free Bird," she was happy to oblige, if for no other reason than to get the catchy little kid songs out of her head. She assured the boys that this would be the first and only time she'd play the song for them, and that they'd better stop requesting it every time they caught sight of her guitar or else she wouldn't play the solo for them. Daryl laughed loudly at this and she felt her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Yer tellin' me you planned on playin' the whole damn solo on that thing?" He asked, still smiling as he gestured to the guitar on her lap.

Beth raised her eyebrows at him, holding back a smile of her own as she replied, "Oh – I'm sorry, you think I can't?"

He chuckled and took a small sip of whiskey. "I'd be surprised if ya could, 's all I'm sayin'."

She smirked at him defiantly and positioned her fingers over the frets, keeping her eyes locked on his as she strummed and sang the first verse. He gave her a look that sent goosebumps down her legs, but then he was looking away and toward Malachi. The toddler danced along and clapped happily, singing the words he knew – which were a lot more than Beth would've expected from a toddler. Then again, she somehow wasn't surprised considering this was Daryl's kid.

When Beth got to the solo, she struggled a little and made a few small mistakes, and her memory was a bit foggy. She got through it, though, and found herself satisfied with how close it sounded to the actual song. And when she glanced over at Daryl, she thought he might've looked a little impressed. He continued to nod along, tapping his foot lightly on the carpet. Malachi's voice grew louder with the last chorus, and Beth sang out the final line with a big grin on her face that closely matched the toddler's.

"Gonna get the cops called on us, sounds like a concert in here," Daryl joked after the song had ended, a playful half-smile on his face.

Beth chuckled and shook her head, resting the guitar in her lap and stretching her fingers out. She'd be building up calluses in no time. She turned her head and met Daryl's eyes. "Well – told ya I could do the solo."

He nodded. "Sure did. Guess ya proved me wrong."

She smiled and looked away, her cheeks growing warm again for some reason.

For the last two songs of the night, Beth chose a couple of her personal favorites – including her favorite song by Tom Waits… the song she'd taken her fake name from. As she strummed and sang, she glanced over and met Daryl's intense gaze, his eyes unwavering on her. Those goosebumps appeared down her legs again and Malachi's voice was a distant noise in the background as she sang and found it difficult to look away from Daryl.

For the briefest moment, she thought to herself, I never thought I'd have to pretend for so long… Maybe I should tell him the truth. Before things get any more complicated.

But as quickly as it'd come, it fled her mind. Malachi got her attention again and she tore her gaze from Daryl's, watching the toddler dancing and laughing. She finished the song and laughed at the sight, Daryl's low chuckle coming from beside her.

A few moments later, Daryl let out a tired sigh and set his empty glass down on the coffee table, leaning forward. "Alrigh', kid, ya got about half an hour 'fore it's off ta bed."

Mal let out a little whine but a stern look from his dad quickly hushed him. The toddler heaved a defeated sigh and rolled his eyes, and Beth had to stifle a giggle and cover her mouth. Daryl shook his head.

"What d'ya wanna do till bed time?" He asked.

Mal shrugged. "Um, I think I'll jus' play. Oh – can you read me a bedtime story, Dad?"

"'Course, don't I always?" Daryl replied.

Mal grinned and turned around to race over to his toy box and begin playing on the carpet.

Beth stood from the couch and stretched, then took her guitar back to its spot in her bedroom. Daryl got up, too, and went to the kitchen for another small glass of whiskey. She returned to the couch and sat down, and he joined her a moment later, leaving about a foot of space between them on the cushions. While Mal played nearby, they sat and watched TV in silence. Daryl turned the volume up just enough to be heard over Mal's sound effects.

The half-hour seemed to pass just as quickly as dinner and dessert had for Beth. She and Daryl drifted closer on the couch, and he leaned over toward her rather indiscreetly. She felt his hand on hers while Mal had his back turned to them both and she glanced over to see Daryl's eyes focused on the TV. But there was a look on his face that she hadn't seen that often – something like contentment. His hand rested over hers and she silently intertwined her fingers with his. She could feel the slight dampness on his palms but she didn't care.

A few minutes later, Daryl was hesitantly pulling his hand from hers and sitting up to announce that it was officially bedtime. Surprisingly, Mal didn't whine, and he cleaned up his toys without any argument. The boys headed off to the bedroom at the end of the hall and Beth remained on the couch, putting her feet up and relaxing into the soft cushions. She watched TV at a low volume and listened to the faint sounds of Daryl's voice drifting down the hall as he told a story to his son.

He returned not much later, briefly lifting Beth's legs and plopping down in the spot beside her on the couch. She threw her legs back over his lap and continued watching TV while he leaned forward and grabbed his glass of whiskey.

"Is he asleep?" Beth asked, looking over at Daryl while commercials played.

He nodded. "Out like a light. Even with that late nap he took, today wore him out. Hopin' that means he won't wake up till mornin'."

She shrugged and looked at him thoughtfully. "D'you think he'd sleep better if you slept in your room…?"

He briefly gave her a quizzical gaze and said, "Don't think it really matters. Doctor said he's got night terrors an' they might not go away till he's older. I thought maybe sleepin' in the same room would help but… it ain't done much."

Beth raised her eyebrows curiously. "Oh – I didn't realize…"

Daryl shrugged. "Not that big a deal. Jus' gets hard on my back when I fall asleep in his bed, an' he takes up my whole damn mattress if I let him sleep with me. I'm just tired a wakin' up tired."

"Well, that sucks," she muttered, but he seemed pretty indifferent about it. She was relieved to learn that she wasn't intruding on the boys' sleeping situation quite as much as she'd been afraid she was.

He rested his head back into the couch and watched her silently for a moment, then mumbled, "Kinda helps havin' somebody ta sleep with… that ain't a bed hog…"

She couldn't help but smirk and blush lightly, shaking a strand of hair out of her eyes. She mumbled back, "Yeah. Me, too…"

Beth hadn't realized Daryl was leaning forward until their faces were suddenly inches apart and she could smell the familiar scent of leather, whiskey, and soap. She blinked and leaned forward to meet his lips, closing her eyes and breathing him in, tasting him. Her stomach fluttered and then flipped as he rested one hand on her thigh and slipped the other behind her neck, his palm warm against her skin. She shivered under his touch and silently cursed her reproductive organs as that old, incessant pressure began to build inside of her. Daryl's hands didn't wander, though, and their kiss deepened. He was slow and methodical in all his movements, and she felt like maybe he was relishing in the moment just like she was.

Their second couch make-out session of the day grew more and more heated and Beth wasn't sure how much time had passed, nor did she care. All she could focus on were Daryl's hands and mouth and the warmth of his body. As their lips became raw and swollen, she felt a poke in her leg and as much as Daryl tried to reposition himself and angle his body away, he couldn't seem to restrain it. She pretended not to notice and put all her efforts into making out, even though she was fighting her own urges, as well.

The show Beth had been idly watching on TV had ended and another show had been playing for a while when they finally broke away from each other, Daryl pulling back a couple of inches and gazing at Beth with hooded eyes.

"It ain't a big deal, but – how long till you're…?" He asked quietly, trailing off as he tried to decide how to phrase it.

"Till I'm healed?" She suggested.

He nodded. "What, like six weeks?"

She gave him a bewildered expression and replied, "Oh, God, no. Only two – did you think it'd be six?"

Daryl shrugged lightly and rumbled, "I'ono, that's how long ya gotta wait after giving birth. I didn't know if it was similar, or…"

Beth nodded in understanding. "No, thankfully it's way shorter. But still… kinda feels like forever."

He scoffed. "Yer tellin' me…"

She smirked and glanced towards his lap meaningfully. "Yeah, I noticed…"

He blushed the slightest bit and shifted in his seat. "Tried ta resituate, but – "

Before he could finish, Beth had leaned in again and pressed her lips against his, silencing him. He didn't object, leaning into the kiss and eagerly grabbing the back of her neck to pick up where they'd left off.

A few more minutes of that and they paused so she could pull away and say, in a breathy whisper, "I kinda like doin' this, though."

He smirked coyly and pulled her mouth back to his, kissing her hungrily. Her heart did a flip inside her chest and she wrapped her arms tighter around him.

She couldn't help but think to herself, He would've waited sixweeks? Jimmy wouldn't have even waited the full two…

They spent the next half-hour wrapped up together on the couch, kissing on and off while mumbling quiet comments and jokes to each other. Then Daryl suggested they move to the bedroom and Beth agreed, tired from the long day and ready to sprawl out under the covers. They got up from the couch and turned off the TV, Daryl walking awkwardly as he tried to resituate himself again while Beth giggled quietly at the sight. He sighed and grabbed his whiskey glass to take it to the kitchen while she headed to her bedroom.

He shut off all the lights in the small apartment, except for the usual stove light, and entered her bedroom almost silently. She left the bedside lamp on and watched as he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed beside her. She was lying on her back with the blanket only covering her legs, having stripped down to nothing more than a thin tank top and stretchy short-shorts over her panties. He glanced over at her then quickly turned his head away and scoffed loudly.

"What?" Beth asked with a half-smile, recognizing the playful tone.

"I need a minute ta get rid a this thing – an' seein' you like that ain't helpin'," Daryl mumbled.

She smiled wider and chuckled mischievously. "Huh, must be… pretty hard ta deal with…"

She watched him shake his head before turning back around with a smirk on his face, sitting up and grabbing the comforter to lift it up to her neck. He gently held it there with two hands while she giggled in response.

"There – need ta cover all that up," Daryl rumbled, still smirking as he gazed down into her eyes.

Beth freed her arms from beneath the comforter and wrapped an arm around Daryl's middle, pulling him back down to lay with her. He chuckled and leaned in to plant another long, soft kiss on her lips. When he pulled away again to lie back down, she glanced at the spot where his neck met his shoulder and furrowed her brow, unsure of how she hadn't already noticed every little mark on his skin. Then again, a lot of their intimate interactions had taken place in the dark, and when she was that close to him, her eyes were usually closed or she was focused on something else entirely.

She rolled over on her side to face him and he turned his head toward her. She reached a hand out and traced a finger along the spot on the bottom of the left side of his neck, where a tiny, black 'X' was tattooed in the small valley of skin. He visibly shivered and gave her a quizzical gaze, his eyelids heavy with sleepiness.

"I never noticed that," Beth said quietly, meeting his eyes. "What's it for?"

Daryl shrugged against the pillow and blinked lazily. "I'ono. Got mosta my tats back in Georgia, didn't put much thought into 'em."

She quirked an eyebrow playfully and rested her hand on his chest. "Is it like, 'X marks the spot'?"

He smirked. "Heh. Maybe…"

Her sleepy half-smile grew wider and she scooted in closer to him until their bodies were pressed together and they were kissing again. Beth's hand slowly wandered down Daryl's chest and over his stomach, but before she could even reach the waistband of his boxers, he was grabbing her wrist with one hand and pausing their deep kiss.

"C'mon, don't be mean now," he growled, his tone completely serious this time.

She opened her eyes and looked back at him innocently. "I'm not bein' mean… Thought I could help with your..."

He scoffed. "When I can't do nothin' fer you? That ain't right."

Beth giggled softly. "You can get me back later – in like, eleven days…"

She watched him briefly bite his lower lip and suddenly, his eyelids didn't appear to be so heavy anymore. He glanced at her lips and when his eyes met hers again, the pressure that had been building up inside her made another appearance. Her heart sped up in excitement.

His voice came out low and husky, "I think I prob'ly should, but… how the hell 'm I s'posed ta say no to that…"

Beth smiled coyly and sat up, leaning over Daryl to switch off the bedside lamp and leave them with only a dim sliver of light coming from the kitchen through the cracked bedroom door. In the silence of the dark apartment, she carefully threw a leg over him, shoving the covers down to their feet, and straddled him. She leaned down and found his mouth with hers again, kissing him hungrily, his skin warm through the thin cotton of her tank top. His hands quickly found her ass and he cupped it, giving it an occasional squeeze as their kiss grew deeper and more heated.

She could feel his heartbeat speeding up beneath her and he quietly groaned from his throat, a low sound of need. Beth smiled against his lips before breaking their kiss and trailing kisses across his cheek, down his jawline and the soft skin of his neck. She found the little valley of skin where the 'X' was tattooed and softly kissed it, then nipped at the tender spot just above it with her teeth before kissing the tiny marker once again. Daryl's hands squeezed her ass and his fingers dug into her skin, a low growl coming from his throat. His hips bucked upward instinctively even though she could feel him trying to restrain himself. The bulge beneath his boxers rubbed against her inner thigh and she softly moaned against the skin of his throat. His whole body tensed as he fought to keep himself from bucking up against her again.

She grinned in satisfaction and began trailing kisses down past his collar bone, along his chest, and down to his tensed abdomen. She positioned herself between his legs, resting on her knees as she leaned down and slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. She teased the tender skin below his stomach with soft kisses and tiny nips from her teeth. He was squirming in place now, fingers grasping at the sheets beneath them.

Beth finally pulled his boxers off, letting the fabric and waistband slide over the skin of Daryl's hard cock as his erection sprung free. He let out a quiet moan from his barely parted lips and she felt him tense up beneath her again. She left his boxers around his ankles and softly kissed his exposed thighs and nearly every inch of skin around his throbbing cock. By the time she slowly wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft, she could see the tip dripping with glistening precome. It twitched in her hand and she lightly squeezed, eliciting another moan from Daryl's lips – a little bit louder this time.

"F-fuck," he growled, sounding almost breathless. "This might – be pretty quick…"

Beth smirked to herself and gave his throbbing cock one long, slow stroke with her hand and he moaned again. She could see more precome dribbling down the head, and she finally leaned down and flicked her tongue out to taste it. She'd planned to tease him, but he tasted good and she couldn't help but wrap her lips around the head of his pulsating erection. Daryl moaned almost unwillingly this time, and she reveled in the sound. His hips bucked up again and he reached a hand down to gently grab the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She could feel him resisting the urge to shove his entire length into her mouth and it sent a fiery tingle between her legs. Now, more than ever, she wished she was already healed.

For now, though, she was nearly getting off to the animalistic sounds Daryl was making and the way his thick cock throbbed in her mouth, precome dripping down the back of her tongue as she took him in inch-by-inch, slowly, teasingly, still gripping the base with her hand. He shuddered beneath her and his dick twitched against the roof of her mouth. She groaned from her throat and he shuddered again, moaning quietly in response.

"Jesus Christ, girl," Daryl growled.

Beth wrapped her tongue around his cock and reached the base with her lips, his entire length enveloped by her warm, wet mouth. She heard him gasp sharply and his fingers briefly dug into the back of her head, then she pulled back leisurely while teasing the head with her tongue. He thrust up into her mouth and she didn't stop him, more precome dripping from his throbbing cock. She groaned from her throat again and listened to him swallowing back moans of pleasure and biting his lip to try to keep quiet. Something about it sent exciting new shockwaves through her body and she found herself enjoying this just as much as she enjoyed having him between her thighs.

She slid her hand down from the base of his shaft to his balls, gently massaging them while she slid her lips up and down his pulsing cock until it was glistening with spit and precome. Daryl was practically quivering at this point, having given up on holding back his moans and groans and focusing more on keeping them to a low volume. His hand pushed her head down gently and guided her as he thrust upward every few seconds. She grazed her teeth along the tender skin and thick veins and he growled from deep in his throat.

"Fuck – I'm gonna come," he gasped out, muscles tensing as he froze mid-thrust and gripped the back of Beth's still-moving head. "It – it's comin'…"

She made an "mm-hmm" sound from her throat and finally lifted her eyes to look up at his face. There was just enough light in the bedroom that she could see him gazing down at her licentiously, dark blue eyes hooded and fixated on the sight of her mouth working his cock and her hand cradling his balls. Knowing that she was prepared for him to spill inside her mouth and spotting the eager look of anticipation in her eyes as she waited for him to do exactly that seemed to be the thing that finally tipped him over the edge. His lips were parted and she watched as he reached his climax – it seemed to wash over him just as the tip of his cock had touched the back of her throat.

Daryl's eyes slammed shut and he thrust upward with intent, mouth frozen in a small O of ecstasy and hand still gripping the back of Beth's head. She felt the hot fluid spurting from his cock and down the back of her throat, and without a second thought, she swallowed it, squeezing his balls a little tighter as he let out a long moan of pleasure when he felt her throat muscles swallowing around the head of his cock. His entire body shuddered and she felt one last, small spurt in her throat before he relaxed and the moans faded. His cock was still twitching against her tongue with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his grip gradually loosening on the back of her head until he was letting go and letting his arm fall back to his side.

Beth pulled back and sat up again, withdrawing her own arm and swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Her knees and neck were a little sore, but that was nothing compared to the throbbing between her legs. She knew it would have to wait for now, though.

Daryl was panting, sunken into the mattress and pillow. His face and chest glistened with perspiration and his eyelids hung heavy. She smiled in satisfaction and crawled back up to capture his lips in a kiss, quickly finding his tongue with her own. He groaned into her mouth and she thought he might've thrust up against her again if he weren't so spent. He reached one hand up lazily and held the back of her neck.

She broke away and he was still trying to fully catch his breath, sighing deeply. His face was flushed but there was a haziness to his eyes that made Beth feel accomplished.

He licked his lips and whispered out, still a little breathless, "That was… goddamn… But now I jus' wanna… fuckin'… goddamn, girl."

She smirked mischievously and kissed him again, then pulled back and giggled before plopping down beside him and pulling the comforter back over herself. He shook his head and pulled his boxers back up, then slipped beneath the comforter and scooted in closer until they were cuddled together. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tighter, letting out another sigh. Beth relaxed against him and got comfortable, watching his eyelids drift shut through the darkness, one hand resting on his warm stomach.

He felt her eyes on him and opened his own, turning his head on the pillow to look at her. He looked exhausted but also relieved. She couldn't help but silently admire him, unable to tear her eyes away from his, lost in the dark blue depths. She felt something like an after-sex haze in this moment, but more intense – more meaningful. Something sparked in her mind and she had the strangest urge building up, like an impulsive thought.

She swallowed back the words that were forming on her tongue. They were ridiculous anyway, and she refused to repeat them in her head. She immediately pushed them away and the impulsive urge quickly disappeared.

"What?" He grunted, licking his lips and gazing at her expectantly.

Beth shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

He sighed softly and after a few moments of silence, their breathing the only sound besides the faint city noises drifting in from the living room window, he muttered, "Gonna make French toast in the mornin'. You gonna want some?"

She nodded against the pillow. "Definitely."

He smirked and blinked lazily, gazing back at her. She wondered if he thought anything similar while looking at her to what she thought while she was looking at him… Maybe she was just hoping he did.

But then she saw something cross his face and after a moment or two of comfortable silence, he muttered thoughtfully, "When Mal ran off earlier – I think he wanted ta go talk to the kid he saw. I don't think he's gettin' enough interaction with other kids his age…"

Beth frowned and sighed thoughtfully. "Well, you take him to the park an' stuff, he gets t'meet and play with other kids pretty often, it seems like."

Daryl shrugged lazily and mumbled, "Only once or twice a week, if I got the time. An' Carol's usually too busy with her school stuff an' Sophia t'be takin' him to the park an' stuff like that a lot. Only other kid he's really used to is Sophia, but she ain't a little kid…"

He sighed and gazed off in contemplation while Beth watched him. She quietly suggested, "Won't he be starting school next year? Maybe you could put him in some kinda daycare or somethin' a couple times a week till then."

Daryl nodded and met her eyes again. "Maybe… Dunno if I can really afford it, though. Daycare's pretty expensive 'round here. Couldn't afford ta put him in preschool. 'S jus' lucky I met Carol and got a good deal with her."

"Yeah," Beth said understandingly. She paused and studied his face as he visibly worried about his son, mulling over his options. Then she suggested hesitantly, "I could pay for it."

He smirked like she'd made a joke and shook his head against the pillow. "Hah, no way."

She raised her eyebrows and spoke a little more assuredly, "No, really – I got the money. It wouldn't be a big deal – "

Daryl's smirk quickly disappeared and he said flatly, "No. You ain't payin' fer my kid."

She furrowed her brow and studied his eyes, slowly realizing why he'd grown so serious, and thought, Should've known better than to say that – he's way too prideful to just accept it.

She paused, then said softly, "Then I'll lend it to you. You can pay me back later."

He opened his mouth again like he was going to argue, but stopped and closed it again. She could see him thinking over her suggestion for a moment, then he rumbled, "Maybe… I'll think about it."

She shrugged and smiled coyly. "Okay…"

The corner of his mouth tugged upward in a small smirk and she could see him studying her face in a different way.

Then he furrowed his brow and she could tell he was thinking something, but it was more like something he'd just remembered. She could sense a question coming before he opened his mouth.

"What d'you really think a that Tobin guy?" Daryl asked quietly, his voice husky with exhaustion.

Didn't expect that question, Beth thought, unsure of what he was getting at.

She shrugged. "He seems nice. I mean… I didn't really talk to him. But Carol's happy so far, an'… I dunno. Why? Did he… do somethin'?"

Did Daryl catch the way Tobin looked at me? She thought, heart skipping as she silently recalled the class. Or is he suspicious of him because of something else? Oh, God, I hope he doesn't get the wrong idea and start suspecting Tobin for no reason because I –

Daryl shook his head against his pillow and replied, "Nah. Jus' kinda noticed the way you were lookin' at him this mornin'. Thought he mighta – I'ono, rubbed ya wrong or somethin'…"

Shit, it's not about the way Tobin looked at me – it's the way I looked at Tobin, Beth thought, scolding herself. I really do need to be more careful… but how am I supposed to control my reactions like that? Who else would've even noticed that except Daryl?

She swallowed uncomfortably but shook her head, trying to appear nonchalant. Then she lied, "Oh – no. It was nothin'. He jus'… looked like somebody I used ta know. It was one a those weird moments."

She half-smiled reassuringly but Daryl was still studying her face.

"You sure?" He asked quietly. "There ain't… somethin' you wanna tell me?"

The icy fingers of dread, guilt, and desire reached up and wrapped around her lungs, and her breath caught in her throat for a second. She swallowed past a growing knot in her throat while two very different sides waged war inside her head.

God, yes. So much, so badly, one side thought.

But you'd never understand. You'd never see me the same. You'd be so utterly livid… You'd never want anything to do with me again, the other side argued.

So Beth shook her head softly and stared back into Daryl's eyes. She licked her lips and replied quietly, "No… That's it. I promise."

to be continued…

A/N: No, Malachi doesn't know anything about Beth's past (or future), he just has a really wild imagination. Although I can't say it's not blatant foreshadowing.
The title of this chapter is taken from the song "Kathrin With a K" by Super Whatevr - it's beautiful, go listen to it and think about Beth and Daryl.
Last chapter got 500+ views and 3 reviews lmao. So if you're reading, just let me know you're here and whether you're enjoying yourself or not! :)