They had walked for another hour or so after leaving the farmhouse. They walked in silence, Beth still lost in thoughts of the farm and her family. With the sun beating down hard, their lack of water was starting to become a real problem but all they could do was walk on and hope they found some soon.

It wasn't until they came across a large sign, jovially declaring "Welcome to Buford Dam, Lake Lanier. Stay and Play!" that Beth was finally snapped out of her reverie. Below the words was a depiction of a merry scene of a family playing by the lake, disturbed only by a perfectly round gunshot hole through the cartoon father's head.

They had both stopped to read the sign. An arrow below the writing pointed to their right, where a small dirt track turned off the main road and disappeared into the trees in the distance.

"Ain't never seen a Dam before," said Daryl, turning to look at her.

She smiled, "First time for everything."

They took the turn off and, with the thought of swimming and washing on her mind, Beth felt light and optimistic for the first time in days.

When they broke through the trees to arrive on the lakes edge, Beth smiled with relief. It was enormous. It stretched out in front of them for three hundred yards before reaching a sandy, tree-lined shore. And when she turned to her left and right the cool green water extended even further to much more distant shorelines. There were small grassy islands dotted around in the distance. Where she stood now on the edge of the tree line, the grassy undergrowth gave way to hard yellow sand, which the water lapped at gently. She didn't think she had seen anything so inviting in years.

Beth dropped her backpack to the ground and toed off her boots and socks. She pulled her jeans up to her knees and walked directly into the cool water. The sand was soft and the water was cool and refreshing on her tired feet. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh of delight. She turned back to Daryl who was watching her from the beach.

"Its beautiful," she proclaimed.

Daryl just grunted, but he dropped his bag and crossbow to the ground and approached the edge of the lake, crouching down to splash water on his face and neck.

Beth turned back to the open water and breathed in deeply, savoring the moment. She wanted to dive in immediately, to wash the weeks of grime and blood from her skin, but decided against it since a wet pair of pants would leave her cold and uncomfortable once the sun started to set. She returned to the shore and her bag.

At the tree line Beth hesitated, unsure of how to go about shedding some clothing while Daryl was right there. It seemed like such a trivial thing to be worried about after everything they had been through and how closely they had been living. But Beth knew that stripping off her jeans would make Daryl uncomfortable and just the thought made her cheeks tingle with a blush. She turned to look at him but he was busying himself collecting kindling for a fire so she grabbed her bag and ducked into the cover of the trees.

Once out of sight, Beth removed her jeans quickly, leaving her in a singlet and underwear. She dug around in her bag for a few moments before pulling out a small bottle of body wash. She had been carrying it with her for weeks and had almost abandoned it more than once but had eventually hung on in the vain hope she might get a chance to wash again soon. She dumped the rest of her belongings under a tree and peered around the trunk to look at Daryl. He was crouched over a small collection of twigs and leaves attempting to get a fire going for boiling water.

"Daryl?" she called out, tentatively.

"Yeah?" he replied, not looking up.

"I'm going for a swim. Can you… Can you just turn around for a moment?" She said, glad he couldn't see her blushing.

He looked up confused, his eyes searching for her in the trees. Then, on realizing what she was asking, he looked immediately uncomfortable. He turned away from the trees quickly.

Beth hesitated for a moment, watching his hand rub awkwardly at the back of his neck, and then she steeled herself and ducked out of the cover of the trees. Feeling her cheeks flushing, she hurried towards the water and waded into the shallows. It was cold enough to give her a shock but after a long day in the sun the temperature was a welcome change. She dived under, relishing the chill on her face and neck, her embarrassment washing away. As she broke the surface, she wiped the water from her eyes and smiled.

She dived under a few more times, enjoying the silence and weightlessness of being underwater. She opened her eyes and saw the flash of a silver fish nearby and wondered if they might be able to catch them. She broke the surface and floated on her back for a little while, watching the feathery white clouds roll by.

Eventually, she turned and swam back to the shallower water and the small bottle of soap bobbing in the waves. She grabbed the bottle and set about scrubbing off the many layers of dirt on her skin and hair. On the shore, Daryl sat next to the small fire watching the carefully placed tin cans filled with water at its center. He chewed at his thumbnail, his eyes shifting to her occasionally.

When Beth finally felt properly clean, she called out to him, "You should come in Daryl, it's beautiful and cool."

"Nah, I'm good," he replied.

"Come on," she said, smiling, "I'll let you borrow my soap."

He let out a soft snort of amusement. His eyes flickered from the lake up to the beating sun. It was the middle of the afternoon and as hot as ever. After a short moment of deliberation, he gave a vague gesture of agreement and stood up to kick his boots off. He hesitated briefly before he reached over his shoulders to grab the back of his shirt and pull it over his head.

As he turned to throw his shirt behind him, Beth was caught by surprise. She had seen the scars on his back before but they still shocked her, looking harsher and deeper than she remembered. She swallowed and looked away quickly, knowing Daryl wouldn't like her staring.

Rid of his shirt, Daryl plunged into the water and dived under with a splash. He was gone for a couple of seconds before he emerged not far away, flicking wet hair from his eyes.

"See? It's nice, isn't it?" she said, trying to hide her sudden awkwardness.

"Yeah, s'alright," he replied with a half smile. He flipped over onto his back and floated there lazily.

Beth looked down at her hands just below the surface, they looked ghostly white and distorted by the shifting water. She wondered vaguely if walkers could swim and then decided it was best not to think about. A larger fish swam past her feet at a leisurely pace; obviously the residents of the lake had been left undisturbed long enough to forget any fear of humans.

"We should try fishing," she said, "There are Trout in here."

"Nah, not Trout," said Daryl, still floating on his back, "They're Bass."

"How do you know?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

"You used to go fishing?" she pushed, not willing to let him get away from opening up if she could help it.

"A little," he replied, staring up at the sky.

"With Merle?"

"Nah, he never had the patience."

"With who then? Your Dad?" Beth asked, trying to imagine a younger Daryl sitting in a boat on a lake somewhere, not realizing the world was about to end.

Daryl looked across at her again, squinting against the sun and thinking for a moment before replying, "We had this neighbour, crazy old guy named Jackson. He lived on his own in this cabin in the woods. Used to fire his shotgun at anyone that came too close... But for some reason he took a likin' to us. Me and Merle. Took us in when we needed a place to stay."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and continued, "When Merle went to juvie, Jackson used to take me out huntin' and fishin'. Taught me bout the local fish, how to gut a deer, that sort of thing."

"I thought you said your Dad taught you that?"

"Yeah well, he weren't much of a teacher."

"Did Jackson teach you how to use the crossbow?" she asked, curious.

"Mmhmm," he replied, "Said if I wanted to learn how to hunt it should be with a real weapon."

Beth looked at Daryl and tried to picture him as a teenager, firing a crossbow for the first time with Jackson looking on. She couldn't help but smile.

"What?" he asked gruffly, seeing her grin.

She was saved from answering by a sudden rattling from the shore. They both looked over to see water boiling and frothing over the brims of the tin cans Daryl had seated in the fire.

Daryl made a soft noise of annoyance and stood up. He waded back to the shore to retrieve the cans. As he left the lake, water running in rivulets down his spine, it wasn't his scars that distracted Beth. The muscles of his back and shoulders shifted with his movement and the sheen of water covering them glinted in the sunlight. As he crouched down over the fire, his wet jeans pulling tight, Beth suddenly felt hot again. She turned away and ducked her head under the water once more.

Happy New Year! Double chapter update today. I hope you liked this chapter, its my favourite so far :)