Most Wanted

by SquishyCool

Explicit AU: After the godly veil on the Greene Family drug operation is lifted, 18-year-old Beth commits a heinous crime to protect her family. Now she's the only one left free and is making a run for it to New York City. When she meets single dad Daryl Dixon, who just needs a little help covering the rent, she quickly realizes that some secrets can't be kept forever.

50. watch you work the room

watch you work the room

Beth didn't awake to the sound of the front door. Neither did Daryl. It was Carol's voice calling down the hallway that roused them, and it drifted into Beth's dreams faintly.

"Are you decent? Mal – Mal's coming in!"

Then she was being nudged awake, and she opened her eyes to see Daryl looking down at her, frantically shaking her and whispering, "Babe – c'mon, get up, where's yer shirt?"

She blinked herself awake quickly, still drowsy, and sat up to feel the cool air on her bare skin. She could hear tiny footsteps running down the hall, and then the knob of the bedroom door was jiggling and being opened. Daryl was scrambling to slip on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, simultaneously searching the floor for Beth's shirt. She looked around as well, but the door was opening and the closest thing to her hand was one of Daryl's sleeveless shirts lying on the floor. She grabbed it up and threw it over her head, slipping her arms through just as the bedroom door opened and Malachi burst inside.

"Dad, Dad! I got – I grew bigger!" The toddler announced excitedly, spotting his father first before his eyes drifted over to Beth sitting upright in the bed, wearing a shirt that was three sizes too large on her.

Daryl began trying to usher Mal back out into the hallway. "Alright, bud, let's go – "

But then Beth heard Carol's voice getting closer in the hall, footsteps approaching the doorway. "Sorry, didn't mean t'barge in, the shirt you packed him turned out to be too small, and I didn't have – "

Carol stopped mid-sentence when she reached the doorway and saw Beth in Daryl's bed, wearing his shirt while sitting beneath the covers. Beth smiled sheepishly and gave a small wave of greeting. She was still waking up, but she could feel her face turning deep red.

"Oh – wow, I didn't realize," Carol started, cheeks turning a bit pink as she quickly looked back to Daryl.

"Yeah, uh – let's go in the hall, I'll grab a new shirt," Daryl quickly suggested, grabbing Mal by the shoulders and gently turning him around, guiding the toddler out the bedroom door and into the hall as Carol nodded and led the way out. She glanced back at Beth briefly as she walked through the doorway and out of sight.

Beth could hear Mal loudly asking, "Dad, did um – did you let Rosie sleep in yer bed last night?"

Daryl shut the door and rushed over to Mal's dresser, pulling open a drawer and digging through to yank out a couple of tiny shirts. Beth watched him, frowning and gripping the blankets around her.

She began quietly, "I'm sorry, I didn't even hear – "

But he cut her off, shutting the dresser drawer and turning around to look at her. "Nothin' ta be sorry for. Don't worry 'bout it, I'll take care of it."

She pursed her lips and nodded, then watched him leave the bedroom again, shirts in hand. She glanced at the clock to see that it read 6:07. He shut the door behind him and she could hear muffled voices in the hall, Mal's included. But she couldn't hear her name being mentioned, and neither Carol or Daryl sounded angry.

For a few moments, at least. Then Daryl's voice grew loud enough that Beth could hear what he was saying without straining to listen.

"…'an you were the one sayin' I was bein' paranoid when she first moved in, so what're you doin' exactly?" His low voice rumbled, restrained anger clear in his tone, rising with every word. "Ya think I trust her too much? Think I should jus' cut 'er off 'cause – what? 'Cause you think it might cause a little rift in the routine?! Make up yer mind, d'you want me ta be happy or not?"

Carol hissed back, voice rising involuntarily, "You know that's not what I'm worried about – this is strictly about Mal. Are you ready to answer those questions, Daryl? Of course I want you t'be happy, I just – I don't wanna see you going and…"

Beth laid back down, pulling the covers over herself and shutting her eyes tightly as the voices lowered again, then drifted down the hallway and out of earshot. Her stomach turned and she tried to push the words out of her head. She knew Carol was right for being worried, but in her own selfish way, Beth wished that she and Daryl could've had just one really good night to themselves, without the fear of repercussions or worrying about what others might think. But she also had to remind herself that Mal was part of the situation, and she knew that she and Daryl would have to sit down and try to explain things to him sooner rather than later. They'd been pushing their luck with sleeping arrangements already.

It was at least five minutes later when Daryl returned, and she was startled out of her half-sleeping state to the sound of the bedroom door opening again. He quickly joined her beneath the blankets, slipping back into his still-warm spot and wrapping an arm around her. She scooted in close and rested her head against him, closing her eyes again. But she was waiting for him to speak, maybe to tell her that they really shouldn't be sleeping together like this. She'd understand, especially after Mal's reaction. And she was already worrying about what Carol thought, or what she might've said.

But he didn't say anything. He just hummed contentedly and pulled her closer, held her a little tighter. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him.

"You gotta get up soon, huh?" She asked softly, catching herself right before drifting back to sleep.

He nodded against her. "Gotta leave in about an hour. I can lay here a li'l longer…"

"Or I could make some breakfast," she suggested. "We could have one more quiet meal together."

He grunted, then slowly lifted his head. "I am kinda hungry."

She smirked and sat up, pushing the blankets aside and throwing her legs over the side of the bed as she stretched her arms out. Then she felt his arm wrapping around her waist from behind, and his weight was leaning against her back as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

"Ya sure make that shirt look good," Daryl growled into her ear.

Beth giggled and turned around to cup his cheek, pulling his face in to meet hers for a long kiss.

---

"Bethy, I'm sorry, but we just can't allow it right now," Hershel said, his voice soft and apologetic as he gazed down at his youngest daughter.

Beth was thirteen years old and sick of being an outcast at school. She was the nerdy girl, the overachiever, the goody two-shoes church girl who didn't do anything except get straight A's, do school activities, and go home to her farm. It didn't help that she was still new to the private school environment, and she couldn't help but miss her old classmates in public school. She'd finally made a friend, though – another girl who was a bit of an outcast – and together, they'd met two other girls that seemed to be nice. The four girls wanted to have a sleepover together, and Beth had suggested they do it in her big farmhouse. There was so much fun stuff they could do around the farm, after all. From the horses to the chickens to the big, open fields. Not to mention all the opportunities for epic games of Hide 'N Seek in the huge, multi-story farmhouse. She wanted nothing more than the chance to impress her new friends, to know what it was like to have a group of friends to call her own, just like everyone else in school, just like all the teenage girls in the movies she always watched.

"Beth, we've had this discussion before, and we told you that you'll just have to wait," Annette said, standing beside Hershel and gazing at her daughter with a similar apologetic expression. "You can go to one of their houses for a few hours, but overnight is out of the question."

"But, Momma-a-a!" Beth whined, stamping her foot angrily. She gave her parents the most pitiful, 'this isn't fair in any conceivable way' expression that she could muster. "Everybody else gets ta have sleepovers, an' there's so much fun stuff we could do here! I wanna show 'em the horses, an' – "

"Everybody else, huh?" Her momma interrupted, voice hardening. "When was the last time you saw Maggie or Shawn havin' a sleepover? Or staying the night with their friends? You think you're the only one who has t'deal with unfair circumstances?"

Beth's mouth opened, about to argue back, but she stopped. She furrowed her brow and frowned, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. Her bottom lip stuck out as she pouted.

"Now, you can either take the offers we've given you, or you can just stay home and we'll find some extra chores t'keep you busy," Hershel said firmly, all the apology in his tone gone. "Maybe if we keep you busy enough, you won't have so much time ta wallow in self-pity an' argue with your parents."

Beth's heart dropped with disappointment and she felt tears building up behind her eyes. She tried hard not to cry, though. She was too old for that.

She started, her voice pleading, "But, Daddy, I made friends and – "

"Bethany!" Her daddy snapped, voice booming around the kitchen. "I won't argue with you for one more second. You are the child and we are the parents, what we say is final!"

Beth knew she should stop while she was ahead, but she'd been feeling so angry lately. She couldn't help but argue back, voice rising, "That's not fair! I didn't do anything wrong, why am I bein' punished?!"

She thought she saw tears forming in her momma's eyes, but then Annette was quickly turning around and leaving the room, heading out to the back porch. Beth's heart thumped inside her chest as she waited for her daddy to respond, his eyes ablaze with anger as he glared down at her. His hands were on his hips and she could see him about to explode, to send her to her bedroom and ground her for the next year. She hadn't even heard Shawn enter the kitchen behind her.

"Beth!" Her big brother, fifteen years old and awkward as ever after his recent growth spurt, barked at her from where he stood in the doorway behind Beth. She spun around and saw him glaring at her, disbelief and disappointment on his pimply face. "Why are you still arguin'? Just go ta yer room an' shut up already!"

Beth fumed, hands going to her hips as she stared back at him angrily. "This isn't fair, Shawn! I didn't – "

"Life isn't fair!" Shawn cut her off, voice rising louder than her own. She still wasn't used to his deep man-voice that had appeared in the last year-and-a-half, and it shook her to her core. He took a step forward and waved his arm angrily as he yelled, "We've all made sacrifices! But yer the only one cryin' an' throwin' a damn fit about it! Stop actin' like a spoiled BRAT!"

All the resilience inside Beth dissipated, and she pressed her lips tightly together, tears threatening to burst from her eyes. Without a glance back at her daddy, she pushed past Shawn and rushed out of the kitchen. There was a tight knot of guilt inside her stomach. Arguing with her parents was one thing, but being told that she was acting like a spoiled brat by her big brother was a whole other. If he said it, she knew it was true. And that trumped every other argument she could've had.

Six months later, she could no longer remember why she'd wanted so badly to spend time with those girls she'd thought were her friends. They eventually grew bored of her and stopped calling, inviting her over, or talking to her. So she joined another extracurricular and retreated further into herself, pouring all her adolescent angst into poems and songs when she wasn't keeping her hands and mind busy.

And by the time high school rolled around, she realized that her family was right all along – she didn't need anyone else. Just them.

---

Beth had expected a visit from Carol while Daryl was at work on Friday. But it never came. She texted back and forth with Clementine for a short time, but other than that, she spent the day as she normally did. She received a text message from Daryl shortly after lunch, and they discussed dinner plans for a bit before he told her he was missing her and that he couldn't wait to sit down for supper with her and Mal again. Her stomach fluttered for an hour after reading his last text.

In the evening, Mal didn't even bring up the incident from that morning. Beth was waiting for it, dreading it. But like the visit from Carol that she'd been sure would come, it never popped up. Daryl cooked one of Mal's favorite meals, and the toddler talked during the entirety of dinner, telling Beth and Daryl all about his Thursday night sleepover with Carol and Sophia. Then he rambled about how excited he was to spend the night in a museum while Beth and Daryl smiled and nodded, asking questions here and there or answering the questions Mal had. After dinner, they cleaned up the kitchen together, then finished the Harry Potter book they'd been reading. Immediately afterwards, Daryl gave in and cracked open the next book in the series to begin reading the first chapter aloud – though a little begging from Mal and Beth certainly helped to convince him.

After a bit of play time, Daryl put Mal to bed with another bedtime story before joining Beth on the couch, where she was watching TV at a low volume. She sipped a mug of hot tea and he brought out a bag of chips from the kitchen, snacking quietly as they sat and enjoyed the silence.

After a few minutes, and once a commercial break started, Daryl spoke up. "Talked ta Dwight today."

Beth turned her head and looked at him, eyebrows raised curiously. "Oh – about the double date?"

He nodded, munching on a chip. "Yeah. Said they're free tomorrow night, if yer feelin' up to it."

She shrugged. "Did you guys figure out what we're gonna do?"

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he paused, chip in his hand. "Got a buddy that runs a biker bar a few miles away. Might be fun."

She furrowed her brow briefly. "A biker bar?"

He chuckled softly. "Not like a scary one. E'rybody in there's pretty cool, trust me. You'll like it."

She paused, then said, "Well, I still don't have my ID – "

He shrugged. "Don't matter, I know mos' everybody in there... We can do somethin' else, though, if ya really don't wanna go."

She shook her head. Not like I have any better ideas, she thought. Maybe a biker bar would be a good place, anyway. I'd probably be just another criminal.

"No, that sounds fun," she gave him a small, reassuring smile and took another long sip of her warm tea, the mug cupped between both of her hands.

Daryl studied her for a couple seconds, then seemed satisfied that she really was interested in the idea. He lazily half-smiled. "Alright. I'll text 'im – wanna say uh, eight o'clock? Gives us plenty a time ta rest an' clean up after class."

Beth nodded, and the smile on her lips became more genuine as she watched him reach out and grab his phone from the coffee table. "Yeah, that sounds perfect."

A few hours later, after cuddling close on the couch and watching TV between quiet jokes and laughter, they retreated to Beth's bed. They fell asleep together, with the bedroom door half-open. But when Beth awoke around three in the morning, she found herself alone, nothing but Daryl's scent left behind on the pillows and blankets.

She rolled over and went back to sleep, despite the inner battle that ensued for at least half an hour. Sleep overtook her again, but it was fitful and restless.

This time, she fell into a dark dream. She was back on the farm, standing on the back porch of the farmhouse. It was dark out, and for some reason, there were no lights except the dim porch light above the backdoor. Maggie was there. And there was a sensation of anxiety that seemed to seep into Beth's bones, making her feel like her insides were made of brittle stone.

There were police sirens in the distance. Lots of them. And they were getting louder every second, closer.

Was this the night of the bust? Was daddy inside that door, praying on his knees right now? Where was Glenn?

Maggie was looking over her shoulder, off the porch and toward the dirt road, in the direction that the sirens were coming from. She didn't look scared, though. In fact, she looked emotionless. More stoic than Beth could ever remember seeing her.

She turned her head and looked back at Beth, a wistful glaze in her green eyes. Her voice came out flat and quiet, "They're comin'."

Beth's heart began to race. Suddenly, she felt a cold, heavy weight in her left hand. She looked down and saw that she was gripping the Beretta, holding it at her side. Where had it come from?

She looked back to Maggie and Beth's voice sounded distant and far-off, like it wasn't coming from her own mouth. "I – I killed a cop. They'll fry me… they'll lock you up for Life!"

Maggie blinked and arched an eyebrow, staring at Beth intensely. She leaned in closer and spoke softly, so soft that Beth had to strain to hear her. But then the words were cutting through her head like a thousand tiny knives, piercing her eardrums. As if she'd hissed and screamed at the same time.

"Not if you RUN."

Beth's eyes popped open and she gasped for breath, unable to shake the sensation that someone's hand had been around her throat while she was asleep. She sat up and grabbed at her chest, breathing in rapidly, mind still racing. But when the calmness of the dark, silent apartment finally settled over her, she relaxed. Her breathing came easier and her lungs didn't feel constricted anymore, and eventually, her heartbeat returned to normal. Maggie's voice was still ringing in her ears – words she'd never actually spoken, yet sounded so real.

Beth shook her head and glanced at the clock to see that it was barely past five in the morning. She grabbed the bottle of water sitting on her nightstand and took a hearty swig, then got out of bed without a second thought towards attempting to go back to sleep. The boys would be awake soon anyway, and they had class in a few hours, so she may as well get up.

She took a trip to the restroom, lingering at the sink a little longer than usual, splashing cool water on her face and pressing her finger down into the scar tissue on her wrist, watching it turn white, then red, then back to white. Then she washed her face and brushed her teeth, running a brush through her hair. When she left the bathroom, the boys' bedroom door was closed and she couldn't hear anything from inside. She tiptoed back to her bedroom and grabbed the bandana, wrapping it around her wrist and covering the scar once more. A weight in her stomach seemed to alleviate just the slightest bit.

As she took her daily antibiotic, she peered into the bottle and saw that there were only a few pills left, which meant a follow-up trip to the clinic soon. She tried to push that out of her mind for the time being and went about dressing herself for self-defense class, leaving her shoes off. She wound up pulling open the drawer of her dresser, reaching inside and opening up the bag that sat in the back corner. After cleaning and wiping down the Beretta, she'd wrapped it carefully in a plastic grocery sack that she'd found under the kitchen sink. She reached beneath the crinkly plastic, fingers brushing the heavy steel and a flash of her nightmare passing through her mind. Then she grabbed what she'd been reaching in for – the photo – and pulled it out.

Beth gazed down at it, etching Maggie's young face into her memory for the millionth time. But all she could see was her adult sister's stoic face, standing on the porch, sirens wailing behind her. She looked across Shawn's goofy face, her father's proud smile, her momma's soft eyes. Her chest ached and she fought back a tear that was threatening to roll down her cheek. With a slight tremble in her hands, she slipped the photo back into its spot beneath the gun and cinched up the bag, then shut the drawer tightly.

She wandered into the kitchen and quietly started brewing a pot of coffee, leaning against the counter and scrolling through news websites on her phone while the smell of coffee began to fill the small apartment. The sun was beginning to rise outside and the birds had already come to life, and the crisp scent of autumn was drifting in the open window on a cool, morning breeze. Beth silently thanked God, as she did most days, for no headlines about her or her family.

She was skimming over news articles, keeping her mind occupied while the last drops of coffee filled the glass pot, when she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She noticed that she couldn't hear Malachi's tiny feet.

Daryl appeared in the kitchen doorway and rounded the corner, entering the kitchen and spotting the pot full of coffee behind Beth. She locked the screen of her phone and set it aside, giving him a small smile. He immediately padded over to the cupboard to retrieve two mugs and set them out on the counter.

"Mornin'," Beth greeted.

"Mornin'," he grunted in reply, voice still husky with sleep as he carefully picked up the full pot of coffee and began to pour it. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Jus' reading the news," she replied.

He grunted again. "Careful, that shit'll depress ya. I try ta stay away from it."

She chuckled quietly as he poured coffee into the second mug. "Been up long?"

She shrugged. "An hour or so. Couldn't sleep."

He slid a mug of coffee over to her and she picked it up carefully, carrying it to a nearby countertop to mix in creamer and sugar. Daryl replaced the coffeepot and took a tentative sip of his own cup, breathing out a relieved sigh once it had slid down his throat. Then he looked at her and furrowed his brow.

"Didn't wake ya when I got outta bed las' night, did I?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No – I woke up afterwards. Jus'… sleep better when you're there, I guess."

He smirked and nodded, taking another sip of coffee. He mumbled quietly, "Me, too."

"Where's Mal?" Beth asked, stirring her coffee.

"Bathroom," Daryl replied. "What d'you wanna do for breakfast?"

She raised her eyebrows and stepped forward to lean up on tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the lips, then she put her hands on his arms and softly pushed him toward the hall, mug of coffee still in his hands. "Omelets – go sit down an' watch TV or somethin'. What kind d'you want?"

He snickered as if she were joking, then quickly realized she was serious, finding himself standing in the hall while she began moving about the kitchen to start breakfast.

"Surprise me," he answered, and she glanced back with a brief nod and a sly smile.

A few minutes later, Mal was running into the kitchen to see what "Rosie" was up to. She asked him what kind of omelet he wanted and he requested an M-n-M's-and-gummy worms omelet. Daryl laughed loudly from where he sat on the couch and Beth stifled her own laughter before ushering the toddler off towards the living room to join his dad.

Beth listened to the boys chatting and watching TV as she prepared breakfast, smiling and quietly singing to herself. With every sip of hot coffee that slid down her throat, the nightmare drifted further from her mind. Just as she was portioning out the plates, she heard Daryl enter the kitchen while Mal's voice could still be heard from the living room, singing along to his cartoon.

"Hey – I was just about ta call you guys," she smiled at him as she scooped hash browns onto a plate.

He nodded, coffee mug in hand as he went to the coffee pot and poured himself another cup. "Good timin'."

She watched him move from the corner of her eye, walking over to stand beside her and gather silverware while she finished preparing the plates. She licked her lips and worked silently at first, then quickly decided to take advantage of Mal being occupied in the other room.

"Um, Carol's not – mad, is she?" Beth asked quietly, watching Daryl's face for a reaction.

He glanced over at her as he pulled out three forks and three spoons, furrowing his brow slightly. "What would she have t'be mad about?"

She shrugged. "Yesterday morning… I kinda heard you guys arguing outside the door…"

He scoffed and shook his head. "Nah. She's just worryin' too much, like usual. An' she's still gotta get used ta me havin' somebody around – she can't keep bargin' in like she lives here just 'cause she's got a spare key."

Beth pursed her lips and nodded, carefully placing the empty pans in the sink and running water over them. Then she turned around and said tentatively, "If you wanna – take a break from sleepin' together… for his sake…"

Daryl looked back at her and shook his head, smirking slightly. "Don't worry too much about it. Maybe we sit him down, have a little talk – next week or somethin'. Let's just leave it be fer now. He ain't even brought it up yet."

She nodded and smiled back weakly, feeling a little reassured. Although she wasn't entirely sure she should believe him when he said not to worry about Carol. This definitely wasn't the ideal way for her to find out that Beth and Daryl were already sleeping together.

Mal was full of questions and stories during breakfast, but he finished every bite of the food that Beth had prepared for him and then thanked her enthusiastically. After cleaning up the table and the kitchen, Daryl and Mal headed to the bathroom and bedroom to get ready for the day. When they returned, Beth joined them to gather on the floor in a small circle with coloring pages and a large box of crayons, each of them coloring their own picture while they laughed and joked. And before she knew it, it was time to leave for class.

Carol and Sophia joined them on their way out of the apartment, and together, they all left the apartment building as a group and walked to the small gym where they held class every Saturday morning. Beth didn't reach out to take Daryl's hand this time, remaining silent behind her sunglasses as she trailed a few inches behind and to the side of Daryl, while Carol walked on the other side of him and chatted casually. He mostly nodded and mm-hmmed in response, but he also briefly talked about work and his plans for finding a daycare for Mal. The toddler was walking along the sidewalk in front of Daryl and Carol, holding tightly to Sophia's hand while she walked with him and laughed at his funny little comments. Beth noticed that the preteen was looking happier every week.

Then she felt the familiar rough skin of Daryl's hand brushing against her fingers and she looked over, snapping out of the slight trance she'd been in as she walked and gazed around at the city. Daryl grasped her hand softly, holding only her fingers at first, and she saw him glance at her with a little smirk. She half-smiled back before intertwining her fingers with his and grasping his hand tightly, giving it an affectionate squeeze. She walked closer to him and continued smiling to herself while Carol went on chatting, either not noticing or just choosing to ignore their tiny bit of PDA.

Beth helped Daryl and Mal set out the mats for class once they reached the gym, and not long after, the girls showed up within minutes of each other. Tobin and his daughter showed up, as well, greeting Carol and Sophia warmly. As soon as they were all together, Tara, Rosita, Clem, and Enid cornered Beth by the lockers and gathered around her, curiosity and excitement on their faces.

"So when's the wedding?" Enid teased, a goofy smile on her face.

"More like, when's the baby – I know you guys had to have boned by now," Tara said, a little louder than Beth would've preferred.

She felt her face going red and then Rosita said, "You guys – relax. They only just made it official, but – "

"Well, how is he, though? Good?" Clem interrupted, a mischievous smirk on her face. "Is he as quiet in bed as he is the rest of the time?"

Tara laughed loudly and Enid rolled her eyes, while Rosita scoffed and shook her head, punching Clem's shoulder playfully. Clem snickered.

"Now I'm remembering why I didn't wanna tell anybody," Beth joked, a sheepish smile on her too-warm face.

"Oh, c'mon," Rosita said, smiling and leaning in to lower her voice a bit. "I don't care about his dick, unlike these weirdos. I just wanna know if he's taken you on an actual date yet – like, is he capable of being romantic? I'm having trouble picturing that side of him."

The other girls laughed lightly and Beth raised her eyebrows, pleasantly surprised by the question. She glanced around at the others, then replied, "Yeah! We went out on Thursday night. Carol took Mal for the night an' Daryl took me on the most amazing date – like, mind-blowing. He – yeah, he has a romantic side."

Rosita grinned in excitement while Tara's and Clem's jaws dropped, and Enid raised her eyebrows, intrigued. Then Tara grinned.

"I knew he had it in him," she said happily.

Rosita chuckled and asked, "'Amazing,' really? Daryl – romantic?!"

Clem added, "Yeah – I'm still having a hard time picturing it… What'd you guys do, exactly?"

Beth blushed again and smiled sheepishly. "We went to this rooftop club that his friend owns and we had this amazing dinner, just the two of us, with the most beautiful view of the city. An' then we hung out at the bar and they had a dancefloor with a live band playing, right there on the rooftop. We danced together… An' one of 'em was a slow song."

Tara laughed but Rosita was listening with almost-dewy eyes. "Oh my ga-awd, that's adorable!"

"Holy shit, you got him to dance in public?" Clem asked, half-smiling with an expression that said she was seriously impressed.

Beth nodded, glancing across the gym briefly to see Daryl standing at the other side, talking to Carol and Tobin. Then she said, "I mean, barely, but yeah. And he even had a bunch of my favorite flowers around our table. It was literally the best date I've ever been on."

Rosita "aww"ed even louder at this, and Tara rolled her eyes at her, chuckling.

The girls continued laughing and joking, but didn't tease Beth. Instead, they seemed genuinely happy for her, offering encouraging words and playful jokes that made Beth's heart feel a little bit lighter. When it came time for them to take their places and begin class, Tara walked closely to Beth and leaned in to speak quietly to her.

"I never really said anything," she said. "But Denise has been saying, since the first day she saw you and Daryl together, that he's got it bad for you. I still haven't told her she was right. Now I kinda have to."

Beth laughed, a small wave of elation coursing through her. Had he really been that obvious? What else was she blind to when it came to Daryl? She couldn't help but wonder.

"D'you think – it's good?" Beth asked quietly, watching Tara's face for a reaction. "Me an' Daryl being together… d'you an' Denise think, like… maybe that it's bad for Malachi? Or something…"

Tara furrowed her brow and briefly glanced over her shoulder, as if to check that no one was eavesdropping, then shook her head. "Of course not. I mean, why would it be? But why? Does he think it might be bad for Mal?"

Beth shook her head and quickly feigned a smile, chuckling like it had been nonsense. "No – nevermind. I was just… overthinking."

They all sat near each other for class, like they usually did, and Clem and Beth sat right next to each other, watching and listening to Daryl and Carol intently. When it came time to review last week's lesson, they partnered up.

"So you're feeling better now, right?" Clem asked as she traded positions with Beth, both of them panting slightly from the exertion of their movements.

"Yeah, almost like normal again," Beth replied.

Whatever that means these days, she thought.

"That's good," Clem said, holding up her hands and blocking a fake punch before grabbing Beth's wrist and twisting it around. "Ya know, I kinda thought it was weird at first, but – I dunno. It makes sense, really."

Beth furrowed her brow, pausing and putting her hands on her hips to take in a deep breath and mop at the sweat forming on her forehead. "What're you talkin' about?"

Clem shrugged, wiping away sweat from her own forehead. "You an' Daryl. Like, you guys are a lot different, but – somehow, you kinda seem like you're the same, too. If that makes any sense."

Beth chuckled and positioned her feet to practice another move. "Yeah, I guess so. 'Spose that's why we like each other so much."

She brushed off Clem's words at first, but the longer they settled in her head, the more she understood. And in a weird way, it made her happy that someone else had noticed what she'd been newly opening her eyes to. It was nice to know she wasn't imagining things when she felt an indescribable connection to Daryl.

Although she couldn't help but wonder if it would still be there once the whole truth came out.

"We're supposed ta be goin' to a biker bar tonight," she said casually, waiting until she and Clem had practiced another move and were trading positions again. "He wants me ta meet his work friend – who's also like, his oldest friend from Georgia."

Clem raised her eyebrows. "Biker bar?"

Beth smirked and said, "That's what I said, too. But I guess he knows the guy that runs it an' – well, I'm not that worried if I'm with Daryl."

Clem nodded and looked off thoughtfully for a second, then the girls practiced their moves again until they were both panting for breath.

Wiping at her forehead, Clem asked, "Is that like, the closest you'll get to meeting his parents?"

Beth chuckled softly. "Probably."

The tawny-skinned girl smirked, then said, "Really, though, it kinda sounds like things are getting serious. Fast."

Beth gazed down at her socks for a second, then looked up to see Daryl walking towards them, weaving between other pairs of people with his eyes locked on Beth. He was still about twenty feet away, and she looked at Clem to make another quick comment right before he approached them.

"I dunno if there's really been a moment when things weren't serious," she muttered quietly, to which Clem merely arched an eyebrow before turning her attention to Daryl.

Despite the coy looks from the other girls, Daryl didn't avoid Beth during his rounds in the class. Though he did seem to spend just a little more time with his body close to hers, his hands on her hips, when he corrected her positioning. Her face was way too warm by the time he'd walked away, and she could see Tara wiggling her eyebrows playfully from the corner of her eye.

When class ended, the girls took their time heading to the lockers, lingering around each other and chatting animatedly. They let most of the rest of the class finish up at the lockers before gathering in the area, and then they were quickly making plans for lunch while Tara complained that her stomach was growling. Beth slipped her shoes on and rested her sunglasses atop her head, hanging back and listening, occasionally laughing at the girls' jokes. Before they could turn to her and invite her along for lunch, Daryl approached, holding Mal's small hand alongside him.

"Hey – congrats, dude," Tara grinned, slapping Daryl on the back cheerfully.

Daryl grunted and half-smiled, giving the girls a quizzical look as they stopped their conversations and grinned at him. "Fer what?"

Clem gestured to Beth. "You guys being official!"

Beth rolled her eyes, blushing. Daryl just shook his head and chuckled awkwardly. "Oh – thanks. I think."

"Dad, I'm hungry," Mal piped up, tugging on his father's hand.

Daryl looked down at his son and nodded, then looked back to the other girls. "We'd better head out, get the boy some lunch."

"Oh!" Enid said. "Why don't you come with us? We're gonna go eat right now."

Daryl looked to Beth and she gave him a quizzical expression, silently exchanging words. She made it clear that it was up to him and she didn't have a preference either way. She was a bit surprised to see him considering the option.

"Where y'all goin'?" He asked, shrugging and looking to Rosita.

"We usually go to a bar a couple blocks down, but we can hit the McDonald's down the street," she replied, glancing around at the other girls for affirmation.

"I could go for some nuggets," Tara said.

The others agreed and Daryl nodded, then looked down at Mal. "How's that sound, bud? Mickey D's?"

Mal's face lit up and he nodded eagerly, swinging his dad's hand. "Yeah! Fwench fwies!"

The group finished saying goodbye to Carol, Tobin, and the preteen girls, then headed out of the small gym together and walked down the block to the McDonald's on the corner. Daryl didn't hesitate to hold Mal's hand on one side and Beth's on the other, and though she was sure the others noticed, she was glad they weren't making jokes or comments. And Mal was way too excited about going to McDonald's to care about pretty much anything else that was going on around him.

As they entered the small fast food establishment, the smell of grease and French fries filled Beth's nostrils. There weren't many other people inside, but it was filling up quickly for lunch, and there were a few tables full of families. She and Daryl let go of each other's hands as they got in line with the other girls, and a few minutes later, they had all sat down to a large, half-circle booth together, crowding into the seat and giggling amongst themselves with order numbers and fresh sodas in their hands. Daryl held Mal on his lap to save space on the seat while Beth squashed in close beside him, Rosita on his other side. Next to Rosita was Tara, then Enid and Clem. They talked and joked while waiting for their food, and when their numbers were called, they each had to squeeze out of the booth and back in, trays quickly cluttering up the surface of the table.

The conversation didn't drift to Beth and Daryl's relationship this time – though she wasn't worried about it anymore. For the duration of the lunch, she felt something that seemed like what a normal person should feel. And when she smiled at the friends around her, it was genuine. Mal soaked up all the attention from the other ladies, and he was constantly making them laugh. Daryl even contributed freely to the conversation, seeming more open and relaxed than Beth had seen him since the party at Denise and Tara's. Occasionally, he'd reach over and squeeze her knee under the table, and they'd exchange soft smiles.

Beth was leaning over the last couple bites of her cheeseburger, chuckling lightly with the other girls at a story that Enid had just told about her boyfriend. She glanced over and watched Mal stuffing the last chicken nugget into his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a hamster. As she giggled, Rosita spoke up, talking casually as she changed the subject.

"It's funny, I kept trying to figure out what your type was," she commented, looking at Daryl. "Like, all this time, I kept thinking that you might be into like, some badass biker chick or something. Ya know, like a girl who has full tattoo sleeves and exclusively wears leather."

Daryl chuckled and Beth could see him blushing faintly. She smirked, keeping her mouth closed as she felt her own cheeks warming up while Tara and Rosita shared a laugh.

"Yeah," Tara said teasingly. "Well, I was about to start setting you up with some of my guy friends that work down at the fire station."

The girls laughed together while Daryl just shook his head and looked down at the box of fries in his hand, pretending to be busy with shaking out the last few bits. Beth tried to stifle her giggle. He side-eyed her and she smirked at him, batting her eyelashes playfully.

"I don't think you really have a type, though," Rosita concluded, still looking at Daryl.

"Well – what type am I?" Beth commented quietly, and Enid giggled.

Rosita shrugged and Clem said, "Definitely not the type of chick we would've thought he'd fall for."

Beth wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but she tried to interpret it lightly.

"Ain't no such thing as 'types,'" Daryl said plainly. "People are just people, always will be. An' they're not always the same behind closed doors – that's the real kicker."

The other girls mumbled a collective agreement, smiles fading momentarily. Beth's heart skipped and she tried to ignore it. Then Mal shook his empty nuggets box and announced, "Okay, Dad, I'm ready for my sundae."

"I don't remember sayin' anything about sundaes…?" Daryl replied.

"Um, it's McDonald's, Dad," Mal said, sighing dramatically.

The group seated around the booth laughed, and a few minutes later, they were all ordering ice cream cones, sundaes, and apple pies.

---

Beth, Daryl, and Mal walked home from McDonald's together after parting ways with the girls. And when Mal looked over curiously and asked "Rosie" and his dad why they were holding hands, Daryl simply explained that it was no different than why anybody else held hands – "so they wouldn't get lost." This seemed to satisfy the toddler and he quickly forgot about it, moving on to jabbering excitedly about the upcoming museum stay. Beth exchanged a look with Daryl, who appeared extremely content.

They got back to the apartment and Daryl put Mal down for his nap while Beth changed and took a quick shower to rinse off from class. Daryl followed suit when she was done, and when he emerged from the bathroom wearing baggy sweatpants and a wifebeater, he joined Beth in her bedroom. The door to his room at the end of the hall was ajar while Mal napped inside.

She was rifling through her clothes when Daryl walked in, trying to decide on an outfit for the night. He plopped down on the bed and watched her quietly, and she finally looked over at him, holding out two different shirts in each hand.

"What should I wear tonight?" She asked.

He shrugged, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against the pillows. "Whatever ya feel comfortable in."

Beth rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through her clothes. "You're not much help."

"I think you could make a trash bag look good, so ya prob'ly don't want my opinion," he rumbled.

She giggled and shot him a flirty look, pulling out every piece of black clothing she owned – which was about half her current wardrobe. Way more than she'd ever owned before, that was for sure.

"Well, it's a biker bar, so I'm definitely gonna wear my boots," she mumbled thoughtfully, carrying her armful of clothing to the bed and laying them out to gaze at and compare. Daryl watched her silently.

"How 'bout this?" She asked, picking up a shirt and pants and holding them up for him to see.

He shrugged indifferently. "I'm gonna be fightin' dudes off no matter what ya wear, so I don't care."

Beth laughed and shook her head, laying the clothes back down on the bed to look at them and try to imagine how they'd appear with the boots. Then she heard him speaking again, a bit louder.

"Why you wear that thing?" He asked.

She looked at him quizzically and saw him gazing pointedly at her left wrist. She held it up, glancing at the bandana wrapped around her wrist. "What – this?"

He nodded. "Jus' ta cover up that scar?"

For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt embarrassed and looked back down at the clothes quickly, trying to shrug off the question. She mumbled almost incoherently, "I'ono."

"Ain't gotta dress like somebody yer not," he said conclusively. "They'll like you no matter what."

She smirked to herself and continued folding up the clothes she'd laid out, trying not to think to herself how she was, technically, always dressing as someone that she wasn't.

By six in the evening, after watching Night At The Museum per Mal's request, Daryl had cooked a light dinner and he, Beth, and Mal had all eaten and cleaned up. Then he gathered up Mal and his overnight bag and shuffled him out of the apartment and across the hall. The toddler was nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement for his museum trip, and Beth could still hear him talking loudly from where she sat on the couch until Carol was closing her front door.

Daryl returned and immediately kissed Beth deeply, both of them taking advantage of their newfound privacy. They kissed for a long time, though it only felt like a few, too-short moments. And when they finally pulled apart, he rushed off down the hall to get ready.

Beth sat on the couch and skimmed through news headlines on her phone while she waited. She'd decided on wearing a pair of tight, black leggings with her black boots, and a blood red blouse that was form-fitting and low-cut, exposing more of her cleavage than she'd probably ever exposed so casually, even more than the top she'd borrowed from Clem recently. It was another impulse buy from her trip to the thrift store and she hadn't even thought she'd ever have a reason to wear it. But the hem was layered and accentuated the curve of her hips, and she told herself she could keep her jacket on over it, if nothing else. She'd even done her makeup, similar to what she'd done for her and Daryl's first date.

When he finally emerged from the hall, he was wearing a much more comfortable outfit than Thursday night, though he still looked just as good. He combed his still-damp hair and trimmed up his facial hair, that delicious smelling aftershave wafting through the apartment. He wore a pair of shiny, black leather boots, a nice pair of black jeans, and a button-up, black-and-white plaid shirt. When he saw Beth with the red blouse on and her makeup finished, he gaped for a second longer than normal, and then he made a deep growl in his throat – which Beth took as a compliment. He strode over to the coatrack and slipped on his winged vest, completing the outfit.

Talk about making anything look good, Beth thought to herself, biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"Alright – you ready?" He asked, shaking a strand of hair away from his eyes and grabbing up his motorcycle helmet, turning and looking at her expectantly.

She nodded eagerly and a few moments later, they were leaving the apartment again, Daryl's motorcycle helmet in his hands while Beth carried the extra from his bedroom. Beth brought nothing more with her than some cash that she tucked into her boot and her phone, which was stuffed into her jacket pocket. She felt herself growing more and more nervous as they descended the stairs and stepped out into the crisp, evening air.

It was another beautiful, temperate night out, and the city was just beginning to light up and come alive. There was still enough summer weather hanging around that Beth didn't really need her jacket, but she knew she'd want it once they were riding on the bike. Daryl, however, seemed more comfortable than ever in his thin long sleeves and leather vest. After pulling off the tarp, folding it up, and shoving it away in its compartment, he shook his shaggy hair back and slipped on his helmet, cinching the strap. Then he turned and helped Beth strap her own helmet on. When he was satisfied that it was securely fitted to her head, they climbed onto the motorcycle and got situated while he put the key in the ignition and turned it on. The engine roared to life and the bike rumbled beneath them, the vibrations growing stronger and stronger. Daryl revved it and a chill of excitement coursed through Beth's body, sprouting from between her legs and spreading outward.

"Ain't done this since the first day we met," he said, talking loud enough that she could hear him over the bike. He glanced over his shoulder at her and she could see him smirking beneath his helmet. Her stomach fluttered gleefully.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, clasping her fingers together over his abdomen and leaning into his back. "Feels like yesterday!"

She felt him chuckling rather than hearing it, and he leaned forward before revving the engine again and pulling out into a tiny gap in traffic. Within seconds, they were speeding down the street, weaving between parked and moving cars alike, passing other motorcycles every now and then. Beth held onto Daryl tightly, looking around at what she could while little spurts of adrenaline burst inside her, her heart jumping into her throat every time Daryl accelerated or passed a car that she didn't think could be passed. But she could see and feel how comfortable he was driving the bike, as if it were an extension of himself, and she felt unquestionably safe sitting behind him. She also enjoyed the cool, evening wind on her skin. And whenever they'd stop at a stoplight, he would reach back and squeeze her thigh affectionately, like a little reminder that he was happy to have her there. It made her smile beneath the helmet every time.

The ride went by quickly, the East Village disappearing behind them for about ten minutes before Daryl was pulling up to a small, dingy bar set between a darkened business labelled, "24-Hour Videos: All Kinds," and a locked-up storefront with a simple sign that stated, "Tax/Divorce/Bankruptcy," about halfway down the city block. The only sign that it was any kind of bar was the large sign posted next to the door, which was set back a few feet from the sidewalk, between two large windows. The sign read: Must Be 21+ To Enter. The building itself was painted black and the windows were covered with posters on the inside. There where white letters painted above the front door in crude font, spelling out: C BLOCK. And the only sign that it was a biker bar were the twenty-or-so motorcycles occupying all the available parking spots on the side of the street directly in front of the bar, as well as most of the available parking spots on the opposite side of the street. Luckily, there were still about three spots left empty, and Daryl pulled into one before kicking out his kickstand and silencing the engine.

Standing on the sidewalk and waiting for Daryl to secure their helmets to the bike, Beth gazed up and down the block, then inspected the front of the bar some more. It certainly didn't appear on the outside to be what she'd expected.

"'C Block'?" She asked. "Like… prison?"

"Yup," Daryl replied simply, stepping up beside her and reaching out to grab her hand before he began leading her to the front door.

"Wait – really?" She asked, following him somewhat reluctantly. The nervousness had reached its peak now, and she wasn't sure what to expect when they walked through the door.

He paused, his free hand on the door handle as he was about to pull it open for her, and glanced down at her with a smirk. "'S alright, they been outta prison fer years. They're good guys, jus' got mixed up in some dumb shit back in the day. Ain't nothin' ta be scared of, they're all harmless. Trust me."

Beth took a deep breath and smiled weakly, nodding and watching as Daryl pulled open the door and guided her inside before him. For a split-second, as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and swirling clouds of smoke inside the bar, she thought she might be getting dangerously close to willingly following Daryl just about anywhere – she imagined herself following him straight through the fires of Hell. Or maybe she would be the one leading him…

Then the inside of the establishment came into clear view and they stepped forward together, approaching the long bar that sat in the middle of everything. A modern jukebox sat in the far corner, playing old country music throughout the room. Beth saw that there were several people here tonight, some of them louder than others. But it was obvious that every one of them was the owner of one of the bikes parked outside, and if they weren't, they'd ridden here on the back of one. There were a couple groups crowded around a pool table in the corner opposite of the jukebox, a handful of people sitting in every other stool at the bar, drinking and chatting with each other, smoking cigarettes. And the rest were seated in the tables around the room, drinking and laughing and talking happily. Most of the tables were filled up, but there were still a couple left empty.

"Texted Dwight – they'll be here soon," Daryl leaned down briefly to speak a bit lower to Beth, and she nodded. At least now, she could stop searching the room and trying to figure out which one was Dwight.

She hadn't even begun searching for Sherry. She noticed there weren't many women present, but that seemed fairly normal. The place had the feel of a male-dominated space, and all the women looked like they felt more comfortable on the back of a motorcycle than anywhere else. They were intimidating, to say the least. However, the place didn't appear as "rough 'n tumble" as she might've imagined – there were no fights breaking out, and no one was yelling angrily or doing drugs out in the open. Then again, she remembered, the night was still young.

"Daryl Dixon, is that you?!" A skinny, older white man standing behind the bar cried out happily as soon as he turned around and spotted Daryl approaching. "You sum'bitch, where ya been?!"

Daryl chuckled and reached across the bar to shake the other man's outstretched hand happily. "Hey, Axel, how ya been? Brought somebody I wanted y'all ta meet."

He gestured to Beth standing beside him and she smiled sheepishly, lifting her hand in a small wave of greeting. "Nice t'meet you."

Axel was probably close to fifty years old, with golden blond hair that stopped just below his ears and a goatee with a moderate handlebar moustache. He had a southern accent and Beth wondered if he was yet another Georgia native, and if so, how did Daryl find them all in such a big city? There was a tattoo of a symbol that Beth had never seen before on the right side of his neck. And when he smiled, it reached his warm, blue eyes. He was probably a foot shorter than Daryl and had to look up at him when they talked.

"This is my girl, Rosie," Daryl explained, and Beth's stomach fluttered when he called her "my girl." She was pretty sure she'd never get tired of hearing it.

Axel smiled at Beth and reached his hand out across the bar enthusiastically. Beth shook it and he withdrew his arm, nodding at her. "Nice t'meet you, too, Rosie. I'm Axel, I own this li'l shithole. What can I get ya ta drink?" His gaze drifted from Beth back to Daryl as he continued smiling.

"The usual fer me," Daryl replied, looking over at Beth expectantly. "What d'you want?"

She shrugged. "Um – I'll jus' have a beer. Whatever's good. Thanks."

Axel nodded and stepped back to grab a couple of glasses from where they sat nearby.

"Where's Oscar an' Tiny?" Daryl asked, pulling out a barstool and gesturing for Beth to sit down. She did, and he pulled out the stool next to her and sat down, resting his elbows on the bar top while he watched Axel pour their drinks.

"Bringin' in a delivery out back," Axel replied, setting a small glass of whiskey in front of Daryl before moving to pour a tall glass of beer from the tap. "Should be back any minute – oh, they'll be glad ta see you again. Saw Joe an' Len earlier, said they might be in tonight."

Daryl smiled, but it quickly faded and he scoffed. "Hope not – kinda stopped comin' in so often 'cause a them."

"Yeah, we sorta figured that out," Axel said, setting down a tall glass of beer in front of Beth. She watched the head slowly receding at the top of the amber liquid. "They can be a real pair a assholes after a few drinks. Been tryin' ta eighty-six 'em, but – "

"But what? 'S your bar, why can't ya keep 'em gone?" Daryl asked.

Axel shrugged, a slightly pained expression crossing his face as he leaned against the edge of the bar and spoke a little softer, but still loud enough to be heard over the jukebox. "Eh, you know how everybody 'round here feels about the five-oh, man. An' that's about the only thing'll that keep those dickheads gone. Tiny got tired a beatin' up on 'em, they're usually too damn high ta remember the pain anyway."

Maybe I'll fit in around here better than I thought, Beth thought, sipping her beer tentatively. At least I don't have to worry about running into any cops.

Daryl growled low in his throat and threw back a swig of whiskey. "Yeah, sounds about right. 'Spose it's just a matter a time 'fore they get themselves locked up fer some stupid shit."

Axel nodded in agreement. "Sorry, Daryl. We been missin' ya around here. Started t'wonder if you'd moved back ta Harlem."

Daryl laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, right... Nah, jus' got a roommate so I could keep my place in the Village. What about you – how's things been? 'Sides the usual assholes."

Axel chuckled. "I can't complain, man. Life is good. How's the kid?"

Beth gazed around the little bar some more while the two men caught up with each other, looking at all the decorations and posters on the walls. She couldn't see a bare inch of the actual wall because it was all completely covered with motorcycle-related decorations and lots of hard rock/metal band posters. There were also tons of polaroid photos thumbtacked all across the walls, but she wasn't close enough to see what they were. Behind Axel was a wall full of photos, and she could see from where she sat that they were mostly celebrities and musicians, standing with Axel in the bar. There were also a couple of black men in several of the photos with Axel and the celebrities, and Beth wondered if they were the men Daryl had been asking about.

Daryl and Axel talked for a few minutes while Beth sat in silence and half-listened to their conversation, taking small sips of her beer and trying not to cringe at the bitter taste. Then, a customer at the end of the bar waved Axel down, and he told Daryl that they'd catch up later before rushing off to help the customer. Daryl sipped his whiskey and looked over at Beth, and she flashed him a weak half-smile.

"See? It ain't what ya thought it'd be, huh," he said, smirking.

She chuckled softly and nodded, then leaned in closer and asked, "What did he do? T'go to prison?"

She could see Daryl suppressing a laugh as he glanced behind her at Axel, then met her eyes again. "Robbed a store. With a water gun."

Beth's eyes widened and she couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so she held back the half-laugh that wanted to burst out. "What – really?"

He smirked again and nodded. "Yeah. Pretty dumb reason ta lose twelve years a yer life, huh?"

I know all about dumb reasons to lose your life, she thought, pursing her lips and nodding.

"A water gun…?" Beth repeated, narrowing her eyes briefly as she stared at Daryl, expecting him to tell her he was kidding.

But he just nodded. "Ask him yerself, if ya don't believe me."

She chuckled and picked up her beer. "No, thanks." Then she took a long sip, trying to imagine what the water gun could've possibly looked like. Had it even appeared realistic?

"How's that beer?" He asked, hand wrapped around his whiskey glass as he gazed over at her.

She shrugged and feigned a smile. "Pretty good."

He studied her face for a second, then smirked and rumbled, "Liar."

Beth grinned and let out a laugh, then nodded and said, "Yeah, you're right – it's awful. I dunno how anybody can enjoy the taste a this."

Daryl chuckled and glanced down the bar towards Axel. "How 'bout we get ya one a those fruity things?"

She nodded and watched him wave Axel down, waiting patiently while he finished up with another customer. Then she gazed over Daryl's shoulder to see the front door opening and two people entering, and when they stepped through the dark entryway and into the light of the bar, she could see that it was a young blond man and a dark-haired woman. They paused and looked around the bar, searching for someone. Then Beth could see the man's eyes light up with recognition when he spotted the back of Daryl's head and vest.

She nudged Daryl's arm to get his attention. "Is that – "

The man approached just as Daryl turned around in his seat to see who Beth was talking about, clapping a hand down on his shoulder and smiling. "Hey, man!"

Daryl quickly stood from his seat and wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders in a half-hug. "Hey, ya finally made it!" Then he moved to greet the woman with another half-hug. "'Sup, Sherry, good t'see ya."

"You said eight, it's eight – yer just always early," the man chuckled, smiling warmly at Daryl as he glanced at Beth.

She tried not to stare once he got close enough that she could see his scars. Dwight and Sherry both looked to be about the same age as Daryl. Dwight had pale white skin, and it was burned and scarred on most of the left side of his face, spreading down over the corner of his jaw and the entire left side of his neck. He had a blonde goatee and mustache, not much different from Daryl's usual style. He was only a couple of inches taller than Daryl, though much scrawnier. His hairline on the left side was pushed back a bit from the scarring, patchy and wispy, but the rest of his blond hair was thick and shaggy, nearly reaching his shoulders. His right eye was scarred, as well, and he had round, moss green eyes. When he smiled, it was wide and warm and all sparkling, white teeth. He wore a T-shirt beneath a leather vest, and Beth caught a glimpse of his right arm – it was scarred and burnt, too, but the skin somehow looked different. She didn't want to stare, though, so she tried to ignore it and decided to ask Daryl later. Despite the scars, he had several tattoos on both of his arms, and he certainly fit into the crowd that occupied the small bar.

Sherry was a few inches shorter than Dwight, with long, dark brown hair that reached past her shoulders, flowing out in silky waves. She had a skin tone similar to Dwight's, and her eyes were a soft shade of celadon. She was slender, with a dimpled chin, narrow nose, and perfectly sculpted eyebrows, a light layer of makeup applied with precision. Her smile was warm, too, revealing straight, white teeth behind bright red lipstick. She was wearing blue jeans, a blue plaid button-up over a white camisole, and simple, black heels. And a gaze that didn't contain an ounce of judgement.

Daryl stepped aside and gestured to Beth, who stood up and politely reached out a hand, her cheeks warming up. "Dwight, Sherry, this is Rosie."

Sherry reached out and shook Beth's hand first, then Dwight did the same, both of them giving her a polite smile and looking her up and down. For a second, Beth wondered if this would be another Tobin-like experience.

"Nice t'finally meet ya, Rosie," Dwight said.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Sherry repeated. "I love your top, by the way."

Beth blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Oh – thank you." She let out a silent breath of relief, no signs of recognition on Dwight or Sherry's faces.

Then Dwight shook his head and tsked.

"An' here I thought there was a reason you weren't lettin' me see what she looked like," he said teasingly, flashing Daryl a mischievous smile.

Sherry chuckled softly and playfully slapped Dwight on the arm. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her to pull her in close to his side, pecking a kiss on her cheek. She grinned and leaned into him.

Beth glanced over to see Daryl blushing lightly, stroking his chin hair nervously. He met her gaze in the corner of his eye and half-smiled, then looked back to Dwight and said, "Nah, jus' didn't wanna jinx anything. Mind yer eyes while yer wife's around, huh buddy."

The men shared a hearty laugh before they all agreed to find a table and sit down together once Dwight and Sherry ordered drinks. Daryl grabbed the new drink that Axel had set down for Beth and she thanked him as she took it from him. Drinks in hand, they chose a small, square table in the corner, near the pool table. The crowd playing pool had dwindled down to only four or five people. Beth sat down closest to the wall, Daryl on one side and Sherry on the other, while Dwight took the final seat between his wife and Daryl.

She sipped her new drink, finding it a lot more enjoyable than the beer, and looked around at the others. She listened and sat quietly, hands cupped around her glass, while Daryl and Dwight chatted about the self-defense class, Mal, and work. Sherry was doing the same as Beth, taking swigs from her Blue Moon bottle and gazing thoughtfully at Dwight as he talked. Then she turned to Beth and smiled, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table.

"So, how long have you been living here?" Sherry asked.

Daryl and Dwight continued talking while Beth leaned forward on the table, as well, and replied, "'Bout three weeks. You?"

"Twelve years now," Sherry said. "You like it? You're from the South, too, right?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah – an' I like it so far. It's a lot different, but… it's exciting."

Sherry smiled. "Yeah, it's a lot more fast-paced than back home, that's for sure. But you get used to it."

Beth chuckled softly to herself and took a sip of her drink, then said, "I don't think I ever wanna go back."

The other woman smirked in agreement. "That's what we said. Still do."

"Hey – d'you know the Williams'?" Dwight suddenly asked, catching Beth's attention as she realized he'd turned his head to look at her and was speaking to her.

Sherry furrowed her brow quizzically and Beth froze, staring back at Dwight with parted lips, breath caught in her throat.

Please don't tell me he knows Patricia and Otis, she thought, racking her brain for a way to answer.

She stumbled over her words, "The – Williams'?"

Dwight nodded, but then Daryl nudged his arm and the blond man looked at him. "She's from Alabama," Daryl explained. "Prob'ly don't know anybody back home."

Dwight shrugged and glanced at Beth again, then back to Daryl. "I got some family in Alabama, too."

Beth finally found her voice and interjected, "I get that a lot – I jus' have a familiar face. But no, I don't think I knew any Williams'."

Dwight nodded and took a swig of his beer, seeming satisfied with the answer. Daryl shared a look with Beth that made her exhale the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Pretty common name, ain't it?" Daryl remarked. "Gotta be a thousand Williams' in every state, prob'ly three-thousand fer every Southern state."

Sherry was still gazing at Dwight somewhat quizzically, and she said, "Williams? You're not related to any a them – are you?"

Dwight began, "No, but I – "

But then he was interrupted by a deep, booming voice ringing out across the bar, directed at their little table and quickly getting closer. "Double D – long time, no see, stranger!"

Beth searched for the source of the voice as Daryl, Dwight, and Sherry all turned to look in the direction it had come from. A large black man was crossing the room, heading toward them with a big smile on his face and his eyes set on Daryl. This guy had to have at least a hundred pounds on Tyreese. Following close behind him was a black man who appeared to be about the same size as Daryl, and both men had short haircuts and neatly trimmed beards. They smiled happily at the sight of Daryl, who quickly stood up from his seat and slapped the hands of each man in greeting, pulling them into brief, one-armed hugs.

"Hey, how ya guys been?" He said. "Good t'see ya."

"Hey, Dwight, Sherry," the large man waved to Dwight and Sherry, who smiled and waved back.

"Been a while, man," the smaller black man said to Daryl, still grinning.

Daryl chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Been meanin' ta stop in but I ain't really had the time, with the kid an' all. But I thought I'd bring my girl in, show 'er the best li'l shithole in Manhattan."

The larger man laughed and glanced behind Daryl, at Beth. She smiled sheepishly and raised her hand in a small wave. Daryl turned to gesture towards her.

"This is Rosie," he introduced. Then he spoke to Beth and said, "This is Big Tiny an' Oscar."

Beth raised her eyebrows and stood up, reaching out a hand across the small table as she gazed Big Tiny and Oscar up and down. She didn't have to ask who was who. She smiled politely as the men each took her hand and shook it in greeting. "Nice t'meet you guys."

"Well, what's this, Daryl's tricked ya into followin' him into a bar?" Oscar joked, glancing at Daryl playfully.

Daryl scoffed and Big Tiny chuckled. Then Tiny said, "How long's it really been, D? I ain't seen you with a lady since ya started comin' 'round here. You musta had an eventful year."

Beth glanced away and suppressed a smile.

Daryl fidgeted with his chin hair nervously and half-smiled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while he glanced down at his boots. "Nah, we ain't been together long. But it has been a while since I came around – heard yer still dealin' with Joe an' Len's bullshit."

Tiny's smile faded momentarily and he nodded. Despite his size, his voice was soft and warm, though Beth could imagine how scary he probably sounded when he wanted to. "Yeah, unfortunately. Can't seem ta beat any sense into 'em."

"No reasoning with 'em either," Oscar commented. "They the reason you ain't been comin' ta see us?"

Daryl shook his head. "Been busy with the kid an' work – "

"And now you got some extracurricular activities ta keep ya busy, too," Tiny interjected, a playful smile on his face.

Daryl blushed lightly and chuckled, briefly glancing at Beth from the corner of his eye. She smiled back coyly.

"You guys wanna get in on a game of pool?" Dwight offered, standing up from the small table and gesturing toward the pool table nearby, which had recently been abandoned.

Daryl, Tiny, and Oscar looked at Dwight, then the pool table, then each other. When Daryl's gaze fell on Beth, she smiled eagerly and finished the last sip of her drink. Everyone agreed to a game, and Beth and Sherry stood from the table to move to the pool table, while Daryl went to get quarters from Axel and a new round of drinks – including a beer each for Oscar and Tiny. The group of five discussed how to split into teams, laughing amongst themselves when Daryl approached with a whole tray full of drinks and handed them out.

"What's so funny?" He asked, setting the empty tray on a nearby table and sipping his beer.

"We decided yer on the girls' team," Dwight told him, smiling.

Daryl grunted and shrugged, walking to the other side of the pool table and standing next to Beth. "'S the team I woulda chose anyway. Gonna make fools outta you three."

Dwight, Oscar, and Tiny laughed loudly together.

"Smart man," Sherry remarked, smirking as she picked out pool sticks from the rack full of them that hung on the wall.

Beth and Sherry shared an amused glance at each other as Sherry handed her a pool stick. Then Daryl was setting out the plastic, triangular rack on the green surface of the pool table and racking the balls.

Beth remained mostly quiet as she stood around and sipped her drink, watching everyone take their turns at shooting. Sherry made playful comments about the game here and there, while the guys chatted casually and caught up on their recent lives. Oscar talked about how his oldest daughter recently graduated high school and started her first semester at NYU, and how proud he and his wife were that all their scrimping and saving was paying off. Big Tiny talked about his two mothers and how one of them had Alzheimer's that was progressing rather quickly, which was keeping him constantly busy outside of work. Dwight and Daryl shared a couple of funny stories from work, and then Daryl talked a bit about Mal and how fast he was growing. Oscar assured him it would go by in the blink of an eye, and Beth saw a brief flash of sadness cross Daryl's face. But he quickly chuckled and nodded, agreeing as he took another swig from his beer.

She joined the conversations when she could, answering little questions here and there. She learned that Sherry was a kindergarten teacher and had a sister who lived in Washington, D.C. Beth recited a lie about being "between jobs" and "thinking about college," and vaguely mentioned having a sister "back home," but made sure not to specify younger or older. Mostly, though, she stood back and watched Daryl interacting with the others.

If she'd thought she'd seen a whole new side of him on Thursday night, then tonight was another new side. He seemed comfortable and relaxed, enjoying himself around people whose company he actually liked. Though it was obvious he enjoyed being around Carol and Rosita and Tara and all the others, Beth often got the sense that he was still hiding a small part of himself. But here, it was like he was in his element. Under the dim lighting of the bar, amongst the cigarette smoke and smell of liquor, surrounded by people who shared his passion for feeling the wind in their hair. He didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't, or watch his tongue to avoid being too crude or inappropriate. He didn't have to try to impress anyone, or set an example for his son. And despite all his claims that he didn't trust other people, that he was such a lone wolf, so alone in the world, full of such contempt for all other people except a very select few – he was the star of his small group of friends tonight. Beth smiled to herself as she watched the way the men talked to Daryl, how they affectionately patted him on the shoulder, laughed at his jokes, teased him. It made her heart swell with happiness… or maybe that was just the alcohol.

By the end of their game of pool, the 8-ball was the only ball remaining on the table, and Dwight and Daryl wound up facing off against each other. Daryl's turn was first, and when he shot, he missed the corner pocket by less than half an inch. The black 8-ball bumped into the side, tipping close to the edge of the pocket, but stopped and remained motionless.

Daryl let out a groan of disappointment while Dwight laughed triumphantly. Sherry and Beth joined Daryl in his disappointed groans, watching Dwight smugly take his shot – all it took was a light tap to send the ball into its pocket.

Oscar and Big Tiny laughed, and the three men high-fived each other in celebration while Daryl and the girls shook their heads, Daryl playfully flipping Dwight the bird.

Dwight returned it, adding an air kiss. "Right back atcha, handsome," he winked, laughing.

Daryl laughed and shook his head, turning around to grab his beer and take a long swig. Sherry set her pool stick aside for a moment and walked over to join Dwight, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him while they talked quietly, smiles on their faces. Oscar and Tiny talked to each other while they walked around to hang up their pool sticks.

Beth turned around to set her pool stick aside and found Daryl standing less than a foot away from her, having approached when she wasn't looking. She stopped and gave him a smile, and he leaned in to talk to her quietly.

"So whatcha think of 'em?" He asked.

She shrugged. "They seem pretty nice so far."

He furrowed his brow briefly and asked, "You havin' fun?"

She smirked and nodded. "Yeah – I really am. Thanks for bringin' me."

He half-smiled in relief and took another sip of beer.

Beth glanced over her shoulder at Dwight and Sherry, who were still talking to each other. Then she looked back to Daryl and lowered her voice to ask, "Um… what happened? To Dwight? The scars, I mean…"

Oddly, Daryl smirked. Then he said, "Ask 'im."

She furrowed her brow and shook her head. "No way – I don't wanna be rude."

Daryl shrugged and took a sip of beer. "Ain't that big a deal. 'S a good story, you'll wanna hear it."

She was about to ask what he meant, but then Oscar and Big Tiny were approaching Daryl to tell him that they had to get back to work and that they hoped to see him again soon. He one-arm hugged them each before they waved to Beth, telling her that they hoped to see her again, as well.

She grinned and watched as they walked off to disappear behind a door at the back of the bar. Then Dwight suggested they play another game of pool, couple vs. couple. Daryl looked to Beth for her opinion and she flashed him a mischievous smile.

"Gonna help me redeem myself?" He asked, picking up his pool stick from where it sat leaned against the corner of a table.

Beth grabbed her pool stick from nearby and nodded, grinning. "You'll prob'ly be carryin' the team, but I'll do my best."

Daryl chuckled.

"Lemme go pick some music on the jukebox first," Sherry said, pecking Dwight on the cheek before rushing off toward the jukebox across the room.

Dwight and Daryl racked the pool balls and chalked their sticks, joking with each other while Beth listened, amused. She was still marveling at how relaxed Daryl seemed around his friend, and she was beginning to imagine what a camping trip with them would be like. She was feeling far less nervous than she had been at the beginning of the night. Then again, she was also getting the tiniest bit buzzed from the drinks.

"You hear 'bout that big dope bust back home?" Dwight asked casually, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shaking one out into his hand.

Beth's heart leapt into her throat and she froze, ears perked as she stood still, pool stick held in her hand, and watched Dwight and Daryl. For a second, she thought she'd misheard him.

Daryl didn't seem very interested as he pulled out his own pack of smokes and placed one between his lips, lighting it and taking a long drag as Dwight did the same. He leaned back against the pool table and gazed at his friend, shrugging. "Nah, you know I don't keep up on whatever's goin' on down there."

Dwight grunted and exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning over and ashing his cigarette into an ashtray that sat on a nearby table. "Yeah, me either. My mom was tellin' me 'bout it on the phone last night, though. 'Member that sheriff's deputy that used ta harass you an' yer brother? What was his name – Rick?"

Beth's stomach was in a big, tight knot at this point. If Daryl had been looking at her, he probably would've noticed how pale her face had become. She stood frozen, listening with pursed lips, one finger nervously scratching at the wooden pool stick grasped in her hands.

Daryl grunted and took another long drag of his cigarette, then spoke as he exhaled the smoke, "Grimes. Yeah – I 'member him. Pompous asshole."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thought. Cold sweat was forming on the back of her neck. A tiny part of her was screaming at the back of her head, "Run!" But she silenced it quickly. That's not an option.

Dwight chuckled lightly and ashed his cigarette again, then said, "Well, I guess he's some kinda undercover detective now. Went inta some big operation outside a Senoia, got himself bashed over the head. Other dude he went in with got shot an' died, so I guess Grimes got lucky. Mom said he's been in a coma fer damn near a month now, though."

Daryl let out a low whistle, but he only appeared half-interested in the news. It was like talking about the weather, or an old friend from high school that you never really liked and haven't spoken to in decades. Beth wondered, momentarily, if Daryl had ever been friends with Det. Grimes at any point.

How did I let myself get so wrapped up in someone that I knew was from Atlanta? She wondered silently. But then she immediately scolded herself for thinking that way.

"That sucks," Daryl rumbled passively. "Ya hear who all got busted?"

Dwight shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. "Nobody I ever heard of. Why – you think Merle mighta got himself caught up in all that?"

"Meh," Daryl ashed his cigarette, his tone indifferent. "I'ono. If he ain't already locked up."

Merle? Beth thought, assuming Dwight was referencing Daryl's brother back in Georgia. Why does that name sound familiar? Merle Dixon… I can't even place a face to it.

Dwight half-chuckled. "Yeah, that's prob'ly more likely."

The cold sweat on Beth's neck was slowly receding and she was beginning to relax just the slightest bit. It didn't seem that Daryl or Dwight were much interested in the news from back home, and knowing that Dwight didn't even know her family's name was certainly reassuring. She just had to pray that it didn't get brought up again, and that Dwight's mom didn't happen to mention the girl who had shot Det. Walsh and fled the state.

To Beth's relief, Sherry rejoined them before Dwight or Daryl could talk any more about what was going on "back home." The music playing around them slowly changed to an old Johnny Cash song, and Sherry kissed Dwight happily as he put out his cigarette. Daryl put out his own cigarette and walked up to the pool table, lining up his shot at the cue ball and breaking apart the balls that were grouped in a triangular shape.

Beth took a long drink from her glass and watched without really watching, her mind still racing. As she watched the colorful balls bounce around, hitting the edges of the pool table and rolling back, the clattering sound echoing out around them, she thought about Rick Grimes back in Georgia… how he was lying in a hospital bed, sleeping for who knows how long. Cigarette smoke swirled up around her, and she wondered to herself if he was dreaming, or if he was just submerged in darkness. She could only imagine how quiet the inside of a coma must be. Maybe he was numb, peaceful, and undisturbed – finally fully resting for the first time in years.

For the briefest second, she envied him.

to be continued…

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A/N: Happy 50th Chapter! Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. Next chapter will be the second half of the double date! Time-wise, it's currently Saturday, September 23rd, 2017. :)
Also, I always thought Axel, Oscar, and Big Tiny deserved way better than what they got in the show. Dwight and Sherry, too, for that matter. I feel like they were a really sweet couple before the apocalypse, and perfect together. As for Joe and Len... yeah, we'll see them next chapter. No, they don't deserve better. But I sure did appreciate Joe's character, so I'm excited to give him a little part in this. Let me know what you thought of this chapter!
Last chapter & this chapter's titles come from "The (After) Life of The Party" by Fall Out Boy.