A/N: Enjoy!

Sighing from exhaustion, Glen wipes the glistening beads of sweat from his brow as the sun begins to push its way through the darkness. He sits cross-legged on the steeple floor where he has spent the better part of the night on watch duty with his riffle wedged through the iron bars. The sun is not even up yet and already it is scorching hot.

He peers out over the field and smiles to himself when he sees Beth and Daryl exit out the main doors of the church. They move only a short distance away before squaring off in yet another private sparing competition. To say the match is unevenly set would be an understatement. At least until the battle begins. Daryl is tall, all brawn and muscle. Beth is small in stature, thin, and very, very quick.

The hunter begins with a few light jabs to Beth's face that she easily blocks or taps away. She backs off a bit and then glides to the side while Daryl tries to land a roundhouse kick to her outer thigh, but Beth sees it coming a mile a way. She throws up her knee and blocks the kick with her shin. She knows in where her strength lies, and also her weakness. So Beth stays in close, never allowing Daryl the full use of his long reach. Landing a couple of body shots to his ribs, she makes sure her guards are up. Never does she make a move or throw a punch without first protecting her face and head. Daryl taught her that.

Long gone is the shy quiet teenager from the farm. Beth has fast become a force, a warrior meant to live in this world. She has already proven she can survive in it.

The unlikely pair have been training for about a week now, always at dawn before the sun can add to the blistering heat that is the end of a Georgia summer. As Glen watches from his post he is amazed at the speed in which Beth is recuperating. The bruises that only four short weeks ago mared her features are all but gone. A pink circular scar, rough and raised, the only lasting reminder of the bullet that ripped through her outer thigh.

She hasn't spoken much on what occurred at the hospital. When Glen asked Daryl about it, Daryl bluntly said, "Beth will speak on it when she is ready, and if she didn't want to talk on it, it sure as hell wasn't his place to say." Glen had to respect that. After all, the only thing he wanted was for the sadness that now brews beneath the surface of Beth's eyes to melt away, and for some hope to shine through them once more. They all know she's been through hell.

The melodic tone of his wife's voice floats through the air and pulls Glen away from his thoughts. "Hey Babe."

Hey Maggs'. Come to relieve me?" He quirks his eyebrow and hopes she catches the double meaning.

Maggie lowers her body to the ground and slips her legs through the bars, allowing them to dangle freely in the air before she turns to her husband and smiles. "Possibly," she teases as she motions her head down to where Beth and Daryl are sparing in the distance. "How long have they been at it this time?"

"About an hour."

"Who's winning?"

"Hard to tell." Right then Daryl manages to get Beth in a headlock and she looks to be struggling. "Hey Maggie, has Beth said anything to you yet? About... you know?"

Maggie sadly shakes her head. "Not a word. It's like she's content to ignore the last three months. I try to talk to her about it, but she just frowns and tells me to mind my own business. It can't be healthy for her to bottle it up like that."

Glen nods to his wife in understanding as he watches her watch the staged battle happening on the lawn below. The smile displayed across Maggie's face is hypnotic as she observes her sister proudly. "Take him out Beth!" The older Greene yells. "Look at her go Glen. It almost looks like dancing. ... Ouch!"

The married couple look on as Daryl connects a swift solid kick to the tiny blonde's ribs. Beth stumbles back a bit, then doubles over.

As Maggie begins to stand, Glen anchors her to the spot, lightly pressing his hand on her shoulder. "Let your sister handle it."

Beth quickly straightens her posture and places both hands on her hips. Scowling at the hunter for stopping the fight for something so trivial, and then batting away his hand when he cautiously bends down to check that she's ok.

Glen Blinks twice as the married pair watch the scene play out from their spot on the perch. Thinking for a brief moment that he sees the slightest shade of pink creep over Daryl's jaw-line to the tips of his ears. A thought he shakes off quickly. There's no way. He must be hallucinating from the heat or lack of sleep. But when he glances at Maggie he is surprised to see the same confused expression lining her face. "Humm," she says, while crinkling her nose. Maybe Maggie sees it too.

"Beth's a lot like you, you know."

"How do you mean?"

"Remember after Woodbury. You sort of shut down for a while. I wanted you to talk about it. I wanted to take the hurt away but I couldn't. Only you could do that." Maggie's contemplative look encourages Glen on. "Do you remember what you said to me?" A crease forms at the arch of her perfect nose and she gives him a weak smile of appreciation. She knows exactly what he's getting at. Tears roll down her cheeks. A part of her will always carry that pain.

"I said that I just wanted you to see me. I just needed you to see me."

"Beth isn't a child Maggie. She's strong. Look at her. She will find her way."

Maggie rests her head on Glen's shoulder as he wraps his arm around her. She tilts her head up, and he cups her cheek in his free palm, then wipes away a tear with the pad of his thumb. "When did you get so smart?" She teases.

Glen answers with a soft kiss on her lips. Nothing is forced. Nothing is awkward. He was born for her lips alone.

Maggie fumbles with the top buttons of Glen's shirt, and Glen's hands skim under the hem of hers. He soon leaves her lips and trails hot kisses down the side of her neck. They haven't been alone in what feels like forever, and Glen is eager. Gently he pushes the material of her shirt to the side, following the path of her collarbone to the curve of her...

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything," Rick says with a chuckle as he stands on the veranda, looking up at the steeple where the married couple are quickly falling out of the throws of passion.

Rolling his eyes, Glen let's out a sigh. "Not at all Rick. What do you need?"

Rick looks away while Maggie pushes down her top, darting his eyes over to the field where Beth and Daryl have ceased their mock battle and are now facing his way. "Since Beth will be ready to travel in a few weeks time, Abraham insists on a meeting. He wants to know where the group stands on D.C. You know, sort out the particulars and such."

"Who's going to take watch?" Glen calls down.

"Michonne says she'll be up in a few minutes."

Nodding his head, Glen slings the riffle over his shoulder, then offers Maggie a hand, pulling her to her feet. When the couple reach the grass they see Beth and Daryl walking side by side toward the main doors. Maggie's eyes widening, when Daryl gently presses his hand against the small of Beth's back, and Beth willingly lets him guide her inside.

Glen goes to follow, but is pulled off the first step and met with a light elbow to the gut. "Ow! What was that for Maggie?"

"Is it just me, or is Daryl being very... unDaryl like with my baby sister?"

"Come on Maggie! Now is not the time!"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed. He's always near her..." Glen knows where she's going with this, and is ashamed to admit he has been curious too. "...He's always finding excuses to touch her..." Maggie raises an eyebrow and Glen can see that she's desperately trying not to roll her eyes. "Glen!," she whines, knocking him off balance when she pushes a little to hard on his chest in frustration. Her voice most definitely not a whisper. "You have to have just seen that!"

"There will be plenty of time to talk about it after the meeting?"

Maggie narrows her eyes. "Fine," she says.

Uh, oh. Glen knows that 'fine'. He sees the mischievous glint in his wife's eyes, as well as the sly smile that is already taking over her face. Maggie definitely wants him in on this with her, and is prepared to pull out all the stops to entice him into her scheme.

Placing her hands on Glen's hips, Maggie slowly (ever so painfully so) begins to glide them up his abdomen, tracing small circles with her fingers as she goes,. "Gulp." Her arms moving gracefully up his body, her hands skimming feather-light touches across his sides until finally they snake around his neck and the pair are nose to nose. Glen is inches from her soft, moist, perfect lips. Yup, he's toast.

Daryl's less that kind words swirl in Glen's head. Pussy-whipped, that's what he called it. Damn it if the hunter isn't one hundred percent right! He will do anything for this woman. Even when he knows he is being manipulated beyond belief.

Maggie places a soft kiss at the base of her husband's throat, and it fogs up his brain. He never really had a chance. "Glen, I was just wondering..." she says in her sweetest tone, her tongue lazily trailing thin wet heat up to the lobe of his ear. She gently sucks. "If you could just talk to him is all..." along his jaw, "Find out if he has feelings for her..." stopping when she reaches the corner of his mouth. "I just need to know if he..." a pause, "...has intentions." Maggie bats her eyelashes and Glen is hooked.

If there is one thing to know about the Greene girls it's this, they always, always get their way. Glen has been bewitched. Maggie has him in her clutches now and he is powerless against her charms.