A/N: You guys! I'm thrilled that this story has been received so well! Huge thanks to everyone who followed and favorited this story, and to my lovely reviewers!
Hope you enjoy!
Erin was sitting on a bench outside of Preston's.
The Preston's sign was made of neon lights, bleeding eery colors across the parking-lot. As Beth approached she thought Erin was alone, but then someone shifted in the shadows. Her heart involuntarily jerked in her chest. Dixon was leaning against the brick, arms folded.
"BETH!" Erin sounded thrilled to see her. "Are you here to join the party?"
Beth had coached herself on the drive to Preston's. Though this marked the first time she had really been to Preston's since July, Beth had been here often in her dreams. Dixon was always there, waiting for her. She had promised herself that she wasn't going to freak out.
She swallowed the tremor in her voice and said, "Hi, Mr. Dixon. Thanks for everything." God, her words were so forced. Being here with him was too much.
As much as he was trying to hide it, Beth could tell he was struggling as well. He looked inhuman under the alternating green and blue lights. "Found her drinking with some guy. She admitted that he bought her drinks."
Beth's awkwardness was briefly forgotten in parental annoyance towards Erin. She folded her arms, glaring daggers down at Erin. "What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, voice dangerously low.
Erin's excitement died. She was suddenly very interested in her shoes. Her dark hair fell around her face, muffling her words: "I just needed to be drunk. It makes it easier to forget stuff."
This only served to make Beth angrier. "Do you realize how selfish you sound? What if that guy had laced your drink, Erin? What if Mr. Dixon hadn't been here tonight?"
Erin grew very quiet. Her shoulders slumped during a brief moment of sobriety. "I'm sorry. I really am."
She pushed her hair away from her forehead, blowing out a long breath. Well, at least Erin was now in good hands. She'd have to come back to Beth's place, since she was in no state to be around her strict parents.
"Come on, get in the car," Beth sighed, resigned. She was suddenly too tired to be angry. Erin was still drunk, so Beth's words were wasted on her. She didn't have enough strength to parent Erin right now. She could barely stand on her own two feet.
Dixon gently helped Erin get into the back seat of Beth's car. He hadn't said much of anything since Beth showed up. With Erin safely buckled in, her head drooping against the back seat, Dixon snapped the car door shut.
Beth had expected him to leave, but he leaned against the door and looked down at her.
An awkward moment passed between them.
"Thanks again," Beth said. The wheels in her mind were trying desperately to spin, to tell the butterflies in her stomach to start fluttering. But everything felt fried, like a computer that had set on fire. She barely had enough juice left to be properly awkward around him.
"You can't drive home," Dixon said critically, ignoring her thanks. "You can barely walk."
Beth didn't disagree. "Well we can't exactly call a cab." Her voice was laced with sarcasm.
Without warning, Dixon took the keys out of Beth's hand. Maybe she should have fought against him, but the moment he touched her Beth gave in. Her fingers unfurled on their own accord, relinquishing the keys.
"What about your car?"
Dixon cast a look towards Preston's. "My friend drove me here. He can come pick me up."
Beth's father had drilled manners into her. Manners that, in moments like these, urged Beth to be overly thankful and tell Dixon that he didn't need to go out of his way to help her. But she didn't do any of that. She just crumpled slightly in relief and nodded.
Dixon opened the passenger side for her, which struck Beth as a very gentlemanly thing to do. Beth climbed in and buckled. There were a few beats of silence as Dixon walked around the car to the driver's door. Erin was snoring softly in the back seat.
Seeing Dixon in the driver's seat of her small four-door was like watching worlds collide. When he got in and started the car, a string of music peeled from the speakers. Dixon sat very still, looking perplexed as he took in the feminine decorations of her car.
"What?" she asked, self conscious.
Dixon's eyes traveled disparagingly over the flower crown that hung from her rear view mirror. "Pink. So much of it," he managed.
"Will you feel unmanly if you drive this car?"
Dixon pinched a sparkling headband off of his seat, holding it delicately as if it was a poisonous creature, and chucked it into Beth's lap. "Yes," he said in disgust.
"Good," she said snidely. While he adjusted to her car, a small sound erupted from Beth's lips. It took her a moment to realize that she had just giggled.
It was Dixon's turn to be evasive. "What?"
She shook her head. "It's just... weird. You, driving my car, my music playing."
Dixon smiled crookedly at her and threw the car into drive. A small, red man began flashing angrily at them from the dashboard. "Get buckled," Beth said sharply, more out of habit than anything.
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, fumbling with the belt and strapping it across his chest.
They pulled out of the parking-lot. Beth watched Preston's fading in the rear view mirror. Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. She threw Dixon a glance.
The confusing awkwardness that followed them like a storm cloud was returning. Beth felt it wrapping itself around them, choking out everything else like weeds. The music should have been a buffer to the silence, but somehow it only made it more obvious that they weren't talking.
"Want to play a game?" Beth blurted out.
Dixon swore, startled by her outburst. He shot her a look. "Okay. What... kind of game?"
Was it her imagination, or was there something suggestive about the way he said that? Beth's cheeks warmed at the thought. She cleared her throat, searching her mind for a game they could play. I Spy felt ridiculously out of context at the moment.
"Um, okay. It's this game I play with my friends. You ask a question, and then the other person can either answer it or ask another question."
"This sounds like a girly game," Dixon complained.
"Suck it up. I'll start."
Dixon muttered something that sounded suspiciously like it had been at Beth's expense. She ignored him, deciding that this was infinitely better than sitting in awkward silence. She sat up straighter in her seat.
"What's your favorite color?"
Dixon shook his head. "I knew this would be a girly game."
"Answer the question," Beth said severely, sounding like a police officer who was in the middle of an intense questioning with a drug lord.
He sighed. "Blue. I guess blue is my favorite color."
"Okay, good. Now you ask me a question."
He was quiet for awhile. Beth was beginning to think that he had given up entirely on their game when he broke the silence with a question. "What's your greatest fear?"
Beth made a face. "Zombies, definitely. Anything that has zombies in it, I can't bear to watch."
"Baby."
Against all odds, the game was making things less awkward between them. Beth might have even said that she was enjoying herself, which made no sense considering the situation. An unexpected thrill went through her at Dixon's gentle teasing.
"What's your favorite childhood memory?"
The turn signal clunked back and forth as Dixon turned left onto an empty country road. His cautious amusement from earlier was fading. Beth watched it happen like seeing a cloud go over the sun, and wondered what she had said.
"I actually don't have a lot of those," he rumbled, reverting back to his awkwardness.
He was a different person here in the car with her. In the classroom, he was talkative and energized by the students around him. But it was almost as if that was a mask he wore, and when he was with her he took the mask off.
Her thoughts were turning muddled. She was so sleep deprived.
Through the darkness, Beth recognized the familiar trees that lined her street. Her farmhouse was in the distance. She looked over at Dixon, who kept his eyes carefully glued to the road. Her headlights stabbed into the darkness.
"You remember where I live?" she asked softly.
He looked deftly at her. "Course."
Gravel crunched beneath them as Dixon guided her car down the driveway. Maggie's car was gone, and her parents were staying out late for a church event. Erin had chosen the right night to get drunk; the farmhouse was empty, meaning that Beth could avoid uncomfortable, sticky questions about Erin. Not to mention Dixon.
Beth gently roused her friend awake and eased her out of the car. Dixon helped bring her inside. She quietly led them to the living room, where she laid out goose-down blankets and pillows. Erin managed to be ladylike even when drunk; she thanked Beth profusely, and was unconscious before her head hit the pillow.
Dixon went out on the porch to call his friend. She listened to his rough voice giving directions before disappearing into the shadows of her room. She flicked on her lamp, casting everything in a warm yellow glow.
She went over to her mirror, taking off her earrings and laying them out on her dresser. When she looked back in the mirror, Dixon was leaning on her door frame. Her mind recalled the small inscription on the car mirror: objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her.
Beth was transfixed as Dixon slowly approached her, staring at his reflection in the mirror. This was the first time he had been in her room. It was jarring to see him among her girlish things, like her lacey bed and her mother's cross stitch on the wall.
Beth drew in a sharp breath as Dixon came up behind her. Their skin was not quite touching. Little bolts of electricity shocked between them. Beth shivered when she felt his warm breath against her hair.
"It's my turn to ask a question," he said, voice husky.
He was staring into the mirror as well. His eyes wouldn't let go of hers.
"Okay," she whispered.
"Do you regret meeting me at Preston's in July?"
"No." Hesitation. "Do you?"
"No."
Both of them were watching each-other in the way that two players watched a chess board. They were tense, prepared for the next move. Beth closed her eyes, swallowing hard. She couldn't do this. She had very carefully built up a wall over the past few months that prevented her from being hurt. Dixon threatened to knock those walls down.
"You should leave," she said breathlessly.
Dixon had stepped so close, that Beth could feel his words vibrating in his chest through her back. She didn't want him to leave.
She twisted around carefully, feeling like a ballerina practicing her moves. Facing the real Dixon was an entirely different from facing his reflection. She could feel his hips unconsciously pushing her against the dresser.
Her hand found his chest. Her fingers spread out on the fabric of his shirt. Neither of them knew it she was unconsciously pushing him away, or holding him in place. Her fingers briefly curled into his shirt.
Long, unfamiliar headlights ghosted through Beth's white curtains. She knew without having to look that it was Dixon's friend.
He exhaled shakily, almost a laugh.
"I have to go," he said ruefully.
She walked quietly with him to the screen door. All of the lamps had been turned off so Erin could sleep. The only source of light came from outside on the porch. Half of Dixon's face was in shadow as he paused to look back at her.
"Goodnight, Beth," he whispered in the darkness.
The way he was looking at her, Beth found herself remembering the first time they kissed. She wondered if he was thinking about it, too.
"Goodnight, Mr. Dixon."
Final A/N: I love when authors create soundtracks for their stories, so here are a few songs I imagined for this chapter!
Apartment by Young The Giant- When Beth is pulling into Preston's parking lot and sees Daryl
Noisy Sunday by Patrick Watson- As Daryl pulls away and drives Beth and Erin home
Wait for Me by Motopony- The scene in Beth's room with Daryl