A.N. - I honestly don't think I'm going to be able to stick to any kind of schedule with updates. I somehow just do not have the time that I used to. I'll keep posting what I have and I want to thank everyone for reading and commenting. Also thanks for everyone that read the last chapter of FotW, I know it's hard getting back into a story that long between updates.

Chapter 6

Friday, April 19th

She'd needed to blow off some steam.

Finals around the corner, certain plans for the weekend, and...other things. It all stitched itself into a patchwork monster in her mind. The panic and stress had taken her foot off the gas pedal when she'd reached town, took the turn to Michonne's instead of the farm. Even with her late start out of the city, it was still too early to be drinking, really, but it was the first thing that came to mind in a moment of desperation. A second to herself would help, it had to, unravel some of that boogie man and chill her out a little. Perhaps a smarter idea would have been to go see a movie or something like that, however, it was still a better plan than some of the others she'd executed while spread too thin.

She was an adult, she could handle it.

Except it was pretty clear within the first hour that she had rarely been so wrong. Solo drinking at the local bar had sounded relaxing enough. What hadn't been factored in were the other patrons. If it had just been guys hitting on her, something that did happen and she knew how to handle, things would have been fine. She didn't calculate her response to the other types of individuals though. The ones not interested in her, but in each other, the ones that made her stare without meaning to.

Couples, or people wanting to couple, how they danced or flirted. The way they hung on one another or stole glances. It made that awful chunk of lonely in her chest writhe around. So she retreated to the nearest open booth, drank a few beers in the safe confines of the little sequestered area, and listened to the different songs that people picked. Tried not to get depressed about her neither she or Daryl was going to be with Auri this year for Easter. Their luck having officially run out when it came to school and work schedules.

Mostly she kept her mind off of him in general, and how the upcoming weekend was going to go. She couldn't spend the rest of her friggin' life pining over the man, no matter how pine-worthy he was.

Before, she'd been in love with the idea of building a life with him, a family, and nothing else came close on her list of important things. She'd posed arguments on both sides of that rationale. Old-fashioned, that's what it was. But what was wrong with that? She came from an old-fashioned family, an old-fashioned town, and there was a large part of her that wanted nothing else but to be a mom and have a family. The voice in her head, the one that told her she was still really young, that she might have no way of knowing if that was all she wanted, was too small to pay much attention to.

Classes led to a deeper understanding of herself, of how big the world around her actually was and how complex. The myriad of places and people, the cultures and belief systems that were different, but in many ways similar, and as beautiful as her own. She was inspired by her lessons, the ones that attempted to understand something as intricate as the human mind, behaviors that couldn't always be explained, but sometimes, sometimes, they could and she saw that reflected in the people around her. It wasn't exactly a Disney moment, not a whole new world, but it turned the one she knew into a many faceted explosion of ideologies and motivations that she'd never realized were there before.

And she came to a startling determination.

That maybe, just maybe, she'd been wrong.

She didn't want everything about her to be directly dependent on what was happening with Daryl. For her mood, her life, to center around his only.

Isn't that what he was trying to tell you? When you guys broke up?

Don't.

But then it was too late, and she was spiraling through all the crap that'd happened and the beer made everything feel that much more tangible and worse. Heated her skin for every memory that called for it, deadened her ability to fight back the ones that led to more morose feelings.

It'd seemed like a logical course of action, to pick some songs out that were playing like a soundtrack in her mind already.

The Beth and Daryl Greatest Hits Compilation, brought to you by Bud Light and the Broken Heart's Club: "Sure we're a cliche, but so is your life!" For a limited time only, enjoy the two for one deal; missing the man that knew how to treat you right, and as a bonus, we'll throw in unimaginable levels of grief over being absent from the life of the child that biologically isn't even yours! Some restrictions may apply.

It'd occurred to her at some point in all of her mullings, that perhaps she shouldn't be left to her own devices, could use some backup, make her outing a little less dreary. So she'd put a text through to her sister, might let Maggie rag on him a bit, just to balance out the teetering mess in her mind.

She'd waited, and waited, and waited, for a response.

Then to top it off, the music had cut off, somewhere around her fifth or sixth drink (there might have been a shot or two in there too but she couldn't remember) and of course when she'd gone to confront the jerk that had done it — it was him. It'd taken her a blink or two to reassure herself that he was in fact real. That he was standing, looking just as surprised as she felt, and staring right back at her.

She'd refused to look around, to find the woman that would no doubt be glaring, fit to blow a blood vessel, at the person who'd dragged him away. Because why else would he be there? He'd barely been able to stand going out with Rick, Glenn, or some of the guys from the shop, back when they were still together. Said he'd had his fill of bars.

Would rather be with her and the baby, or out in the woods.

And how shameful would that be? For him to have to cut his night with whoever-she-was short, to take care of his weepy ex who couldn't seem to move on. What bothered her even more, was that he knew, there was no way that he wouldn't, why she'd picked the song she had. And, oh God, it'd played so many more times than once. So much, that he'd gone off and freaking unplugged the jukebox in order to make it stop.

Their conversation had free fallen off a cliff as soon as it had started.

But now she was trudging across the small parking lot with him like a heated wraith, silent but steady, behind her. The smell of asphalt and alcohol was sharp in her nose, ground feeling harder under her boots than it usually did.

The boots he'd gotten her.

Black with teal inlays, she'd been struck completely speechless when she'd opened them, which he probably would have got a kick out of if he'd been there to see it. After her party had ended, but before the girls had dragged her to the bar for the first time, she'd deliberated on calling him. Tell him they were too much, didn't even have to look up the brand to know they were expensive. She could just tell it from the heavily distressed leather, the soundness of the heel in her hand, as she'd turned it to catch light off the shiny turquoise-dyed hide.

But he hadn't called her after his birthday, after the new knife she'd gotten to add to his steadily growing collection. No, instead she'd come home the next weekend to a bouquet of flowers with her name on the card. Her daddy had said Daryl dropped them off with Auri earlier that day. So for the boots, she'd made a pan of stuffed shells to be sent with Auri when Daryl came to pick her up after Beth had headed back to Atlanta.

She'd almost forgotten all of that, in the midst of her anxiety and crawling shame, the brief shimmers of affection they'd shown each other. Even in the midst of the cold war that'd been going on.

She spied his old truck, led the way to it, still with the silence permeating between them.

When they reached it, he followed her around to the passenger side, unlocked it and opened the door. He didn't offer a hand to steady her, but she could feel him hovering. He'd catch her if she needed him to. It was a near thing, climbing up made the world heave and wobble around her. Had to take her time with it, take a deep breath when she was firmly seated and in less danger of toppling out sideways into him. Trying to look at him while he cranked down the window and shut the door wasn't something she was stable enough to do, but by the time he got all the way around the truck and was climbing with obnoxious ease into his own spot, she was able to focus on him.

The cab light hit all the right spots to highlight everything beautiful about him, and like it had been in the bar, Beth bit at her tongue to pull the burning from her eyes. It'd be awkward, how intently she was staring, if he wasn't sitting there doing the same. The time was just early enough in the year that the breeze coming through her opened window was a cool one, chased some of her fuzziness away. It brought with it some more springtime smells, new grass and something faintly smokey, like someone had already broken out their grill for the upcoming season.

He sat there, like something more carved than living, until his eyes blinked rapidly and pulled away from her gaze. She wanted to ask him, what he was thinking, remembering, that had made him do that — flee all eye contact with her. Didn't though, kept tracking his features and waiting, the humming in her veins made her drift and overly aware all at once.

Made her notice each individual grey hair on his chin, the little patch that was steadily growing in, he'd shrugged it off when she'd first commented on it. But she'd caught him running meditative fingers over it again and again, like it made him nervous, the visual reminder of how much older he was than her. Caused her to kiss it before reaching his lips, murmur how much she loved him without being told to.

"Look," he said, making her jump. "If you're…" His expression tightened, one-handed grip shifting on the wheel. "If it was that you were wantin'," he trailed off, gesturing back towards the bar, "ain't nothin'...nothin' wrong with that." It took her several confused heartbeats to figure out what he was saying, and really wish that she hadn't when it made itself clear. "Don't gotta take ya home, not tryin' t'—"

He cut off quick, a look of extreme discomfort twisted his face. She got the distinct feeling he'd about said something that would bind him paternally to her. Made her want to laugh and vomit at the same time.

"Control ya," he said finally, head turning away from her, to gaze out the window. "Jus' don't want nothin' bad happenin' to you."

The first warm drop slipped over onto her cheek, it surprised her, that it could feel hotter than her skin. She could have done with something to cool off. As was usually the case when dealing with Daryl and high amounts of emotion, she was torn between polar opposites for reactions. It only made more tears stream, not finding either of the options that sprung to mind as viable, and her unresponsiveness prompted him to check and see how she was doing.

"Hey—"

"Just drive," she pleaded, catching the rivulets on the backs of her fingers and flicking them away. "Please."

The muscle in his jaw bulged, holding back, he started up the engine and they surged forward.

Daryl reached over and turned the dial on his radio, some oldies station, but he waved at it, inviting her to change it to whatever she wanted to listen to. Her fingers itched. She wouldn't do it though, wouldn't change it to the only music that seemed appropriate for the way she felt. So she darted a hand out to roll the dial in the opposite direction, turning the thing back off.

Let her attention wander, let her head nearly hang out the open window to keep the nausea away.

Didn't do shit for the memories.

He pushed into her, gliding against her walls, the condom that was supposed to be for her pleasure causing uncertain sparks of pleasure in her core. They were connected at the hips only, one of his hands planted next to her head, the other by her hips, while both of hers gripped the sheets. His eyes on her and watching, watching the way hers fluttered and almost closed. And she trembled so much, she wondered if he'd make them stop.

But he didn't seem to notice.

It shook her stomach, the intestines under the flesh shivering with it. Beth pushed it away, unwound her fingers and hesitantly ran them down his back, his sides, encouraging him to move more, to really make her feel it. That was what she'd wanted, why she'd showed up at his door, and had helped all she could to bring things to the current situation. Didn't want to be sad or lonely. If only for a little while. Rolled her hips and hitched a leg over the back of his, pulled him in deeper.

"Zach," she murmured, ignoring the constriction in her throat to hear the name. "Could you—"

"Don't worry," he shushed her, quick kiss on her lips. "I'm not going to hurt you, Beth."

The laugh died in her chest when she saw he was serious. The impulse to tell him, to try and make him understand, just how unlikely he was to hurt her, or how it was more probable that he wouldn't be able to get her off at all, trembled the muscles around her mouth. But she held that back with the laugh, nodded and held on, closed her eyes and tried to focus everything on her webwork of pulsing nerves. Letting it heat and calm the shaking in her stomach, the tension leaching out of her until she felt ok.

Until it felt pretty close to alright.

Afterwards, he walked her to her car, still flushed and bright eyed. Beth leaned through the open door, turning on the engine, leaving the radio station on where it had been when she'd shut it off.

"Knew you'd be into country music," he said, smiling flirtatiously, kissing her nose, made her scrunch her face up. "First time I saw you at that party, benefit thing, when I was interning for Negan." Beth barely subdued the urge to shudder. "Even looking all flashy, could tell you were country at heart."

She smiled at him wanly, wanting to get on the road and away, the guilt of that weighing unevenly against her ribs. Hugging him again, she waved and slid into the driver's seat, clenching the wheel to chase the butterflies from her bones.

"I'll call you," she said, feeling the statement drill into her heart when she realized it was a lie.

The drive home was a haze of blacks and greens, sharp shots of metallic, glare of the sun off windows. She'd run into Zach randomly on one of her nights out. He'd turned out to be not nearly as cringey as she'd once thought. Pleasant enough, sweet enough, to hang out with, go to movies with, kiss. And then midterms, and the holidays were coming up, the first ones of Auri's life where her mama and daddy weren't going to be together.

The release had seemed a necessary one.

And she had, small and not easily reached, like a consolation prize for participating, her orgasm could hardly garner the term. It wasn't Zach's fault, logically she knew this, just like she'd known it was a possibility that her choice would result in exactly the way she was feeling now. Like she was hollow and mildly ill. It was just that she'd hoped, vainly it seemed, that she'd be able to enjoy herself, and not take the act like some sort of hallowed thing.

Maybe it was what had driven her decision, what she'd allowed to drive her decision. If she had worked through all her mental drama and was in a better place, maybe then sex with someone she wasn't with and had only a tepid amount of desire for wouldn't have made her feel this way.

Getting into town, her car alerted her that she was almost out of gas. Muttering a cursing phrase that Merle had introduced her to, Beth pulled into the closest pump she saw, and went about the familiar routine on autopilot. When she was back in the Santa Fe, she got the vehicle started, but was unwilling to begin the short journey home.

Some water or a coke wouldn't hurt her any, might clear her head. She pulled around the side of the building, where she'd be able to go straight through to a small side alley without having to reverse. About to shut the car off again, she let out a muffled squeak when something knocked solidly against her driver's side window.

Glaring, when she recognized Daryl smirking at her knowingly from the other side of the glass.

Beth rolled down the window, feeling those same fluttering beings migrate themselves up into her sternum as she pressed the button to remove the barrier. He leaned a forearm against the car's roof, that same smile in place.

Happy.

A tad nervous, a lot of surprise, he hadn't expected to run into her here, but happy to see her all the same. He was close enough to kiss, she'd barely have to tilt her body in his direction and she'd be able to feel what the action was meant to be like. Deep and searching, she could curve a hand around the back of his neck and just keep him there. Feel the tickle of smooth hair on her knuckles, tiny nips to her tongue and lips, a dare from him — willing her to do the same.

But she couldn't.

Could only rove her eyes over him, appreciate from the outside of his invisible barricades the way his jeans hung crookedly on his hips, how they mirrored the way he was smiling at her now. When his eyes dipped down and back, she realized with a rush that he was checking her out just as much as she was him. His blues that candy shade that spoke to the authenticity of his mood. There was almost time to feel excited, to wonder if there was something more to his restless sight or how he shifted his weight before speaking.

But then her other activities today came to mind, and ice water sloshed down her back.

There were reasons they'd found themselves here.

"Hey," he greeted, resting his forehead on his arm, the other limb propping itself below the window, like he couldn't get close enough. "Thought ya weren't gonna make it in 'til later tonight?"

With a feeling like she was going to either explode or melt into the seat beneath her, Beth attempted an answering smile. They'd had plans to meet up for a late lunch to discuss how visitation was going to go over the holidays, which had then turned into dinner once she'd gotten an itch she could no longer depend on him to scratch. She'd kind of expected things with Zach to take longer than they had, again not his fault, after the first round excuses had been made in order to extricate herself as quickly as possible.

"I, um," she said, struggling with what to say that didn't include a lie, stopping completely when he stiffened, his eyes darting past her steering wheel. "What?"

"What's wrong?" Her throat closed, watching as he eased back to get a better look at her, face darkening at whatever he saw there. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

It occurred to her too late what had tripped his alarm, reaching over, she quickly turned the car, and the wavering notes of Patsy Cline, off. That didn't count as lying not really, she told herself vehemently, there was nothing wrong with what she'd done and she'd get over the way she felt.

If he just left her be about it, gave her time to digest.

Narrowed eyes, and she knew he'd latched onto her too quick answer like a pitbull.

"Yeah?"

His expression said he couldn't believe her less.

Huffing in exasperation, she opened the door, refusing to apologize when he had to scramble back in order to not get nailed by it.

"I don't always listen to it when I'm sad, Daryl." Her hand jerked back over her shoulder, indicating the now silenced radio. "An' anyway, today's the first time in a while that I even have."

This appeared to only prove something to him, his chin jerking down sharply, before he was back to pinning her with blues that were steadily turning stormy.

"So what changed?"

"I told you, nothing."

He took a step forward, pressing her against the car without touching her.

"We lyin' to each other now?"

Beth's teeth slammed together with a crack, eyes burning with her anger.

So he really wanted to get into this now?

Fine.

"I slept with someone, ok?" Her answer hissed out between them, filled it with sharp toothed and poisonous things. Daryl's head snapped back a little like she'd hit him, and from the way his face went slack, his eyes searching hers like he hoped she was messing with him, Beth figured he might wish she'd done just that instead. "I'm just trying to...to deal with it."

It was awful, the change in him, how he held himself and how he studied the ground. She didn't understand why events had unfolded this way. Why he was here now when she was incapable of better hiding how she felt. Why she felt even worse for sleeping with Zach because it so obviously hurt him. She hadn't asked to meet him here, to tell him what she had, didn't want to make him upset. Anger spread from her gut, from the heartbreak and nerves that weren't supposed to have wrecked them both.

Expecting him to drop it, actually she expected him to maybe yell or just walk away from her altogether, shock wound through her when he met her eyes again. He swallowed multiple times, the inside of his bottom lip clearly being chewed on, probably bleeding. Daryl nodded, a bit stiffly, cleared his throat several times.

"Why're you dealin' with it?" He seemed genuinely confused, twisting up her heart. "Not sure yer wantin' t'date the guy?" Trying, he was trying so hard, and she kind of wanted to hate him for it. His accent thickening was an obvious giveaway to how torn up he was, but if their roles were reversed, she doubted that she'd be in as good of shape.

The end of her ponytail tickled her neck as she shook her head. "We're not datin'."

His face pulled taught on one side, broadcasting his perplexed state. "Who the hell is he?"

She honestly couldn't believe they were talking about this. No good could come of it, and yet she found her mouth opening and vocal cords sounding as if she knew no better.

"Zach."

Serious concentration as he riffled through his memory, unsurprisingly coming up blank, head shaking in burgeoning irritation as he crossed his arms and waited for her to continue. Which she masochistically did, spilling out all the small but important details, feeling like she'd switched religions — was confessing to her priest.

Purging.

"So ya wanted to," he said once she was finished, brow wrinkled with a heavy frown. "He didn't force ya?"

She wasn't out of her head enough to think he was saying shit snidely, laying the groundwork before lighting into her verbally. Knowing him, he really wanted to know, had to be certain that the guy she'd been with hadn't taken advantage or pressured her. Because God help the man that did. Regardless if she was capable of taking care of herself, she didn't think Daryl would ever be above beating the hell out of someone on her behalf.

She shook her head mutely in answer.

"Was it...he…" Daryl took a deep breath and Beth's stomach rolled. "Said ya wanted it?"

He was actually trying to help her figure out why she hadn't liked having sex with someone else?

"Yes," she snapped, drawing a flinch from him, her cheeks radiating heat. "I wanted to have sex. Ok?"

Daryl's hair flew with the force of his own head shake. "M'not—"

"With you," she continued, barely noticing the people that went by now and then in her peripheral vision. Her voice lowered somewhere around the time his arms corded hard below the skin. "I wanted you, but I can't have you anymore, can I? You decided you were gonna do what was best for me. Now the holidays are comin' up, we're not gonna be together for 'em, and school is stressin' me out. I just didn't wanna feel like shit for a little while."

Beth could almost feel his shallow breaths as she watched his chest rise and fall rapidly.

"That the way you remember things, huh?"

She'd held them back as long as she could, groaned as the tears fell, and dashed at the wayward drops without otherwise answering. Not the whole truth, but a lot of it, and strictly from her point of view, it was how she felt most of the time about their situation. It wasn't that she blamed him for her sleeping with Zach, that was completely her decision, but there was still quite a bit that she did blame him for...when she wasn't busy being angry at herself for the part she'd played in their breakup.

"And I can't enjoy anythin' new because I'm still all wrapped up in what we had, and, and," she sniffled, raising a hand to shield her face from the steadily arriving and departing customers to the gas station. "It's so hard, with the way we have things, getting over it. I just can't."

Covering her face, she turned away from him, breathing deeply until she had some semblance of control. Looking up, she blinked until the moisture stopped, took an extra moment and then turned back. More than likely it would have been better if she'd simply waved at him through her driver's side window and then promptly driven away, for all the damage this interaction had done. All of that verbal vomit she'd just spewed, not totally dishonest, if lacking her usual amount of logic.

She also had to admit some of the anger she directed at him had to do with how frigging emotional she'd been since they'd been apart, like she'd lost that finely sharpened edge she'd developed after everything with Jimmy had happened.

Daryl looked as ravaged as she felt, cheeks sinking in under the prominent bones, eyes so dark she couldn't tell where the blue was. The fall weather wasn't matching their current mood, determined to be contrary, it was warm and mild. Made the chill inside her, the one she got from meeting his gaze, that much more frigid. Where there should be fitful wind gusts, spinning and sailing leaves that scratched at the pavement, congealing into mush in stray puddles, it was all heady breezes that smelled of crisper nights to come.

And her and Daryl in the middle of it, like the heart of some melodramatic winter.

They stared at one another long enough for her to realize just how deeply her words had sliced at him. Lips a line too thin to see, hair attempting to curtain him from her sight, he'd gone from crossing his arms out of irritation to almost hugging himself there on the outskirts of the parking lot. The need to drag the limbs from his torso, to slot her body to his, to lay her head on his chest and stay there until the beating under her ear leveled out, was so strong she actually felt her feet walk numbly forward. Able to stop the impulse at the last second, Beth used her new proximity to catch his gaze.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you." A shrug was her answer, his head swaying on the rigid column of his neck as if he wasn't certain she was done lobbing attacks at him. "It just happened before I headed here, and I'm all over the place about it."

His cheeks sucked in against his teeth, and suddenly instead of pits behind the hair slashing across his features, something else blazed as he scanned her up and down. It was gone just as quickly, made her wonder if she'd seen anything at all to begin with. When his arms dropped, Beth could tell it was a concentrated effort on his part, hands coming together only to pick at one another as the silence went on.

There was no explaining it, but she knew a moment from this conversation had broken a tenderly healed, integral part of them. Wished, idiotically, to snatch back all of what she'd said, perhaps what she'd done too. If only it would mean her not telling him, not pouring salt in the wound. The tangle was thick enough without adding more strings.

"Does it make you hate me?" She was as surprised by the question as he apparently was, hands stilling and head tipped up, he watched her rub at her cheeks in agitation.

It took an unbearably long time, but he ticked his head back and forth at last.

More surprise, she was starting to hate the feeling, even as relief coursed through her.

"It doesn't make you hate me?"

Another shake, this one more definite, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, the new pose radiating greater levels of unease than his fidgeting one had. His gaze snapped all over the place, Beth could feel his poorly masked anxiety seeping out of him from where she stood — still a little too close but unwilling to move.

"Nah, it make ya hate me?" His question was punctuated by another roll of his shoulders, this one larger than the one she'd gotten after her apology. "All the women I fucked 'fore we was together?"

Hate? No, but it still made her sick to think about.

"No, course not, but that was before."

Before, before us, before Auri, before things made sense. Then there was during, and during was so good and challenging, wonderful in so many ways. He'd been able to make her mad enough to spit and then charmed her into kissing him moments later. Some nights they'd fallen asleep with Auri between them, and waking up to her coos and babbles in the morning, it'd made Beth realize just how right Daryl had been to name her after the sunrise.

"Yeah," he muttered, glancing away to scrape a heavy boot over the gravel-strewn blacktop. "Well, we ain't together. Ya didn' do nothin' wrong. Don' hate'cha. So quit bein' sad about it."

She marveled somewhat at his words, and at her instant understanding of them, how they weren't said in order to be snarky or hurtful, but from him truly wanting her to not be upset.

"Daryl."

He didn't meet her sight, edged back, chest thrust out with a deep breath as he picked a spot that was very much not her to focus on.

"Look." Another deep breath. "You still uh, you comin' over for dinner t'night?" Clutching her keys, Beth blinked quickly to keep her surging emotions at bay. "Bagged a' deer, got some good meat out of 'im. Thought I'd grill or somethin'." A rebellious need to sniffle hit her, and his gaze flickered back to being on her. Checking, always checking. "But it'll keep alright, if you're not wantin' to."

"Could we," she started, breath catching and then letting loose. "Just put it off 'til tomorrow? Do ya think? I'm…" She gestured at herself lamely, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth when he took it as an invitation to run his eyes over her again. "A mess."

Bobbing nod, and it felt like he was looking straight into her, making sure that overall she was going to be alright enough to at least get herself home.

"Whatever ya want, Beth."

Whatever she wanted, wouldn't that be nice?

"Stop thinkin' about it."

The growl brought her back hard, loud and startled inhale through her nose, eyes blinking blearily about in confusion. She tore her eyes from the passing trees beside them to where he sat next to her. Daryl looked right back at her from over his arm, intermittent light striking off the tensed muscle there, one hand on the wheel the other half-curled by his face, index finger sliding below his lip and thumb scraping nervously against the whiskers at his jawline.

"About what?" Her croaking inquiry made him raise his eyebrows at her, clearly asking if she really needed him to reply to it. "M'not thinkin' 'bout anything."

Her nose chose that moment to overflow with snot, causing her to lunge for the glove compartment where he always kept napkins and things to help him when it came to checking his oil. Plucking up a couple, she blew loudly, turning an evil eye on him when a derisive noise came from the back of his stupid throat.

"Shuddup," she ordered, unintentionally blowing out some more snot when he snorted at her clogged up and nasally reply. "You're an' asshole."

"Mama," he chided, grin flashing in the dull light. "Don't say asshole."

"Oh, fuck you, Daryl Dixon." Or at least, that's what she tried to say. It came out sounding closer to, "Oh, fug oo, Daryl Ickson." Which rewarded her in getting to hear his laugh for the first time in what felt like forever.

It was always just a breathy thing like he did his best to keep it locked up tight but it'd manage to break free when he forgot to keep a strict eye on it. Beth couldn't help but smile in return, albeit it was from under a large wad of fast food napkins, he saw it no doubt, from how her eyes crinkled back at him.

"You better watch it, girl." His warning came with a one-sided grin, and he eased back against the seat, both hands back on the wheel as he kept shooting looks at her.

"Or what?" Beth challenged, wiping her nose several times before balling the improvised tissues in one hand, feeling like a barn full of tension had been lifted off her chest, seeing his playfully stern expression.

"L'tell yer mama," he said, jaw jutting at an angle like it always did when he was trying not to smile. "She'll kick your ass. I won' have ta' do a' thing."

Her glower, when she aimed it at him, came out just as mild as his had been. "No," she said, shaking her head a bit and pursing her lips thoughtfully. "You wouldn't tattle on me."

Daryl glanced at her several times from the corner of his eye, seemingly unable to stop, the last time so long that Beth's heartbeat pounded all the way up to the nerves of her teeth, adrenaline kicking up with the vague concern of them running off the road.

"Nah," he said, conceding with a tiny smile so genuine it made her ribs ache. "Guess not."

Their drive was a peaceful one after that, all the way until he was pulling over just before the road that would lead them to the farm. She stared out the side window, the stars pricked the night sky faintly, free of the woods, Beth realized it wasn't as late as she'd thought it'd been during the last chunk of their ride. The cab was quiet, didn't feel like a bad thing, more like they were enjoying the truce they'd agreed on over a runny nose and lighthearted jabs.

When she finally did look over at him, he was rubbing a thumb pad over the bottom of the steering wheel, seemed to be contemplating something humorous that tilted the corners of his mouth. Her attention on him immediately drew his focus, showing some teeth with his smile, Daryl took a huge breath and shook his head at her.

"We gonna be alright ya think?"

The question struck her as odd for some reason, and she cocked her head slightly. "Whaddaya mean?"

She was still a little stuffed up.

His shoulders twitched up. "Dunno, bein' away...Didn't help."

Brows furrowing, she considered his words, last bit had sounded like a question, like he was asking her if it hadn't helped her, him being away from her. But he'd been the one that'd needed the space, had needed her to hear him. She didn't want to pry though, didn't want to ferret out each little innocuous thing he said, because that had only ever flustered him. Made him more likely to clam up if he wasn't able to articulate things to his liking. A reply from her was expected, he was looking straight at her.

Waiting.

"I'm really lookin' forward to spendin' time with you an' Auri." He appeared pleased enough with that, nodded, kept that same set to his lips. Having navigated one part of their exchange without dire consequences, she decided to try her luck and kept going. "Tonight was just, me over estimatin' my alcohol tolerance." She gave him a self-deprecating smile. "Ya probably saved me from gettin' white girl wasted."

"Tchuh," he scoffed, looking momentarily confused at the unfamiliar terminology. "Didn' listen to me did ya? Told ya to drink plenty a' water when you're doin' that shit."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Did you ever do that?"

"Hell no," he answered honestly, making her laugh. "S'how I know what not to do."

"We should tell Michonne to start sellin' moonshine." His eyes flared and she kept smiling at him until he got around to answering.

"You hated that shit."

"Wasn't bad after a' couple rounds."

For her 20th birthday, he'd rounded up some honest to God bootlegger's moonshine from a friend of a friend of Merle's. Said that was the only proper drink he'd see his girl having. And then had proceeded to mother her for the entire night, making sure she went slow and stayed hydrated. Well, up to the point in the evening where she'd hounded him into drinking with her, and then things had just started escalating until they'd woken in bed the next day with little memory but lots of interesting aches.

She snapped out of the flashes of memory and registered that their eyes were still locked.

Wanting to drag out this sudden turn of events, Beth blurted the first positive thing that came to mind, hoping she wasn't being completely obvious in her aims. Which, of course, was to stay with him just a little while longer.

"I really love my boots." Daryl's brows shot up, but he thankfully took the change of conversation in stride, chin dipping in answer. "Couldn't believe how beautiful they were when I opened 'em up."

"Yeah?" Clearly proud, he waved a hand at her. "Let me see how they're holdin' up."

Bit of a rush and she swiveled on the bench seat, lifted a leg to lay it along the worn out upholstery, gasped quietly when he wrapped his hand around her ankle and towed it up onto his thigh. Reaching up, he switched on the dome light, before his fingers were making quick passes to investigate the different rows of heavy stitching, the wear along the sole. One hand rested on her shin, heat rolling up to places she couldn't let have control, not right now, not with her being as tipsy as she was. In order to distract herself, to ignore how close he was, how warm, she tried the talking thing again.

"I wouldn't have canceled, you know, on you an' Auri tomorrow."

He stilled, face scrunched, and then he glanced up at her with another easy twitch of his lips. Squeeze to her leg, joking tug on her boot, and it was all she could do not to move closer with the pressure.

"Hadn't crossed m'mind, girl." He'd stopped his inspection. His hands were just a comforting weight as he continued. "An' I don' think your daughter 'ld give ya much choice in the matter." Beth laughed lowly, leaning more against the seat. "Yer goin' to that park tomorrow, no matter how fuckin' hungover ya are."

"Fair enough." The next time she looked through the window it was because she had to, eyes peering off in the direction of the farm, though there was no way for her to see it from where they were. "This is gonna be awkward."

"Hershel still not like ya drinkin'?"

She shook her head. "Can't say as I blame him, all things considered, but Heaven knows that doesn't stop me from wishin' he'd leave off the preachin'." Her cheeks prickled with the blush, making her shoot a glance at him, but Daryl just nodded back knowingly.

Father's were tough, even if didn't mean that they beat you bloody.

The silence stretched, and she about asked him to get them there so she could get it over with, or maybe to just let her walk, let her sober up some, when he muttered something she couldn't quite hear.

"Sorry, what'd you say?"

It was his turn to peek, hands still on her boot and the side of her leg respectively, expression saying he fully suspected that she'd rip his ass for what he was about to repeat.

"Could stay with me," he murmured, only slightly louder than he had before, quick to add on when her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Could get a' shower an' all that, pick Kit up tomorrow from Rick an' Michonne's together. Go to the park from there." She was pretty sure that she was imagining the tightening of his hand. "Mean, 'less ya ain't wantin' to lie to yer folks, 'bout where yer at, or if they're expectin' you."

Her head wobbled back and forth until she could answer.

"No, they uh, I didn't think I was going to be able to get out of Atlanta until tomorrow." Feeling like a bad kid, she mumbled the rest. "Was goin' to surprise them, but then…"

"S'alright, Beth."

And when she met his gaze again, she found that she believed him.

He nodded back at her when she did, releasing her leg, he started the truck back up and turned them around. She was nervous, and it wasn't because she thought something was going to happen between them when they got to Daryl's. His offer was a friendly one, save her a well-meaning, if tedious, fatherly lecture and get some peace and quiet for a few hours.

Beth was nervous because she knew she needed to police herself, keep herself under control. Impulsiveness with a sidecar of alcohol was not a good partnership for someone going into close quarters with a person they found attractive.

Let alone an ex, one that knew how to do things to her the way Daryl did.

But nothing was going to happen.

Like he said, it was alright.

They'd be alright.