It isn't anything new when Beth wakes up to Daryl at her back, curled around her protectively. They started sleeping like that on the road; for warmth, for safety, for comfort. What is new on this morning however is that Daryl's rough palm is cupping her naked breast, dwarfing her with his size.

At first Beth thinks that she's in a dream, lucidly enjoying the fantasy of having Daryl's skilled hands holding her bare flesh. When she watches him at work, sometimes she dares to imagine... what it might feel like, those hands touching her in places he can make her ache; ache like he's making her ache now in this fantasy. Then her brain slowly drifts awake and she remembers the events of the night before and she realises that it's actually happening.

A smile nudges her mouth as she feels his chest rumble against her back. His heavy arm is holding her to him so tightly that she couldn't move if she wanted to. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to move; she thinks that she could quite happily spend the rest of her life wrapped in Daryl's embrace.

His now-familiar scent fills her lungs with each inhale and his hot breath streams across her cheek. He's sleeping more deeply than she's ever known him to. Maybe because of the wine, maybe because of the walls, or maybe, her heart squeezes at the very thought, because of her.

Her stuttering heart causes Daryl to stir, his arms constricting around her as though they might stop the grim reaper himself from taking her from him. He nuzzles into her neck, taking a greedy lungful of air that she thinks must smell of her, of them. The nuzzling turns to open mouthed kisses clumsily pressed into the soft spot under her jaw.

In the space between waking and sleeping, Daryl is less shy and more bold as his rough hands stroke their way down the soft skin of her stomach to her hips. His movements start off sleepy but become more sure and by the time his hot palms are moving down her thighs Beth's breath is coming out in ragged pants that fill the room.

Each swirl of his tongue on her skin makes her spine tremble all the way down to her begging clit. When Daryl sucks the tender flesh over her pulse point Beth lets out a rough moan and her hips rock forward of their own volition.

There's a split second where she feels Daryl still and then his hands tighten on her hips and he drags then backwards to meet his own. He doesn't grind into her ass but Beth feels the hot hard length of his cock through worn denim.

As he pulls her ass flush against him she feels his cock twitch and a strained moan bursts from her lips. The muscles of her thighs clench in a desperate quest for friction, but her pussy lips just glide in the wetness pooling between them. The sound seems to encourage him and his thick fingers slide down her inner thighs towards her centre as if drawn closer by the orbit of her arousal.

He doesn't even reach her panties before his finger tips find the wetness that's dripping down her inner thighs. He drags in a ragged breath as he smears his fingers through her slick and then exhales in a low grunt as his calloused fingertips find the damp cotton of her panties.

Beth catches her bottom lip between her teeth and she tries to get a hold of her own breathing. A violent pulse shoots from her clit across her pelvis at his touch and Beth can't help the desperate moan that pours from her throat. She doesn't want to, she wants him to know the effect he has on her body.

His rough digits circle her clit through her soaked panties and another pulse sparks across her pussy. Beth feels his stubble scratch its way across her cheek as though he's trying to look as he trails his index finger down the line of her dripping slit. When the ball of his hand reaches her clit and kneads with deliberate pressure Beth comes so fast it shocks them both. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as she presses her pulsing sex into his palm.

"Jesus, girl," he whispers against her cheek in awe, his hand cupping her pussy like it's something worth holding onto.

Beth lets out a shaky breath as she feels the aftershocks run hot and cold down her legs to the balls of her feet.

"I...God, I never came that fast before," she pants, feeling her face flush with a mixture of heat and embarrassment.

Daryl pulls around then so that he can see her face, not -she notices- moving his hand from her pussy which is still singing beneath his palm. His eyes look a little wider than usual as they track her face, taking in the flush of her cheeks and her eyelids fallen to half mast. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"That was amazin," Beth breathes, letting her head tip back against the pillow they're sharing.

Daryl does move his hand then, bringing it up to gently smooth her wild bed hair away from her face. He's staring at her like there's nothing else on earth. He's smiling like he's forgotten how not to, like it's becoming as familiar to his face as the scowl he used to wear. Beth thinks it suits him better.

As Daryl leans down to kiss her Beth feels his cock poke into her back, still hard in the confines of his jeans.

She looks back at him guiltily, twisting onto her back and reaching between them but Daryl catches her hand in his.

"Nah, girl," he says, voice low and gravelly, still drowning in awe, "you given me enough."

His hand moves down to cup her face as he seals his mouth over hers.

...

Eventually the growl of their stomachs forces them out of the bubble of their bed and Beth into some clothes. Daryl is still wearing his dark shirt and jeans from last night with spaghetti sauce on the sleeve. He can't take his eyes off of her. Everything about him seems lighter as they exit the bedroom and he laces his fingers with hers.

When they reach the kitchen, Daryl places a hand on the small of her back and guides her to the breakfast bar. Beth gives him a questioning look and then he grabs her by the hips and hoists her up onto a stool.

"What are you doin?" She squeaks, catching his shoulders under her palms.

Daryl looks up at her through his hair and there's the hint of a smirk when her cheeks flush under his heated gaze.

"I'm makin' you breakfast."

Beth's grinning so hard her face starts to hurt as she watches Daryl rifle through the cupboards. His broad shoulders almost span the width of the stove, hiding what he's doing from view. Beth hardly notices, letting her eyes drift down his tightly muscled back to his narrow waist and then falling like a stone to the hard curve of his ass.

She lets herself stare, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, another kind of hunger threatening to set her ablaze. The soft tread of feet draws their attention to Maggie entering the kitchen. Daryl slows but doesn't stop what he's doing.

"Hey. You want some eggs?" He mutters.

Beth doesn't know whose eyes are wider, hers or Maggie's, as they fall on Daryl.

There's a pause and then out of Maggie's surprise rises a smile. "I'd love some," She says, "Thank you."

Daryl jerks a nod, glances at Beth and then turns back to the stove.

Moving forward, Maggie smiles and slides onto the stool next to Beth. "How on God's green earth have you got Daryl Dixon makin' eggs?" Maggie whispers, looking between them, "or don't I want to know?"

Beth flushes but catches something affectionate in Maggie's face that makes her roll her eyes.

"I better not get food poisoning for you, Bethy."

Beth's lips twitch and she leans forward, shaking her head. Daryl appears then, balancing three plates on his massive arms and handing the largest portion to Beth before sitting down next to her.

"You tryin' to fatten me up?" Beth asks, eying up her plate with a grin.

Daryl snorts, but he's smiling too. "You're damn right I am."

Maggie is still staring but if it bothers Daryl he doesn't let on; just pulls the plate into his lap and starts shovelling food into his mouth as quickly as possible.

As she stuffs a giant forkful into her mouth, Beth groans, making Daryl's head snap up.

"This is so good, Daryl, thank you," she says, stuffing an even bigger forkful into her mouth with another groan that makes Daryl jerk.

"S'just powdered eggs," he mutters, the tips of his ears turning pink as he buries his face in his own eggs.

When Beth glances up Maggie has stopped staring and is cautiously taking a bite. She glances up at Beth and before Beth can look away their eyes catch. Hold.

"Yes, this is good, Daryl, really good," Maggie says, still holding her sister's gaze.

The side of Beth's mouth slides up. She isn't sure but she suspects it isn't the eggs that have impressed Maggie this morning.

...

Aaron is made up when they agree to be his new recruiting partners and swiftly takes them into the garage to show them a dissected motorcycle. Beth can feel the relief coming off Aaron in waves and she thinks about Eric. Wonders how she'd feel if Daryl wanted her to stay inside the walls while he went beyond them.

The thought of them being apart for indeterminate amounts of time, of the very real prospect of Daryl never returning from a trip, makes her stomach twist. Her hand reaches out and grabs Daryl's, a little too tightly by the way his eyes snap up from the array of motorcycle parts in front of him.

A breath passes her lips when they make contact, as if it is only with the feel of him under her that she is able to resume breathing. She feels the knot in the stomach loosen as Daryl gives her hand a squeeze before swinging his gaze back to the half built bike. As she watches Daryl's darting eyes mentally bring Frankenstein's motorcycle to life she thinks that perhaps Eric is the strong one after all.

When Aaron asks if they want to join him going outside the walls to hunt rabbits, Daryl is halfway down the drive before Aaron has finished speaking. He's almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as they approach the gate. Once they are fully outside and surrounded by trees he seems taller somehow.

When a walker stumbles into their path he actually looks pleased and Beth can't help the way her mouth curves up at the palpable enjoyment he derives from killing it. Aaron was right; he needs to be out here sometimes.

As they reach a break in the tree line Beth hears a sound that stops her in her tracks so fast Aaron collides with her back. She barely notices as she hears the sound again and her head swings around to fall on the body that made it.

"I've been trying to catch him for months, bring him inside," Aaron says, following her gaze. "His name's Buttons."

Grazing just a dozen yards in front of her is beautiful jet black horse, his coat the deepest ebony Beth has ever seen. She had almost forgotten the easy grace with which horses move as her mesmerised eyes follow Buttons as he finds a new patch of grass.

"One of the kids saw him run by the gate a while back. Thought he looked like a Buttons," Aaron fills in, "I haven't seen him for a while. I thought it was too late."

Beth finds herself moving forward without conscious thought. Something deep inside her aches, at the beauty of this creature in a world so ugly, and of the memories he brings from a past she can't ever go back to.

"Every time Eric or I get close he gets spooked," Aaron says from behind her as she comes up beside Buttons, if she were to reach out she could almost touch him from the distance.

"Have you done this before?" She hears Aaron ask Daryl.

"Our group did," Daryl answers, "But they weren't out there that long." Beth hears him come to stand behind her. "The longer they're out there, the more they become what they really are."

Buttons straightens up and looks at Beth, pauses for a moment before continuing to chew on his mouthful of grass.

"That's it, just keep eating," Daryl says softly, moving forward so that he's pressed against Beth's back. She feels his heartbeat pound steadily out of his chest and into hers.

"Yeah, you used to be somebody's, huh?" Beth says to Buttons, holding her hand out slowly for his inspection. The horse gives her a curious sniff, tickling his muzzle across her palm. "Now you're just yours," Beth smiles, stroking the horses snout gently.

The sound of a twig snapping draws all of their eyes to the tree line. Beth hears the snarling of the walker before she sees it emerge from undergrowth.

Buttons lets out a high whinny and then paces backwards.

"Shit," Daryl grunts, shouldering his bow and turning as more walkers emerge.

Beth turns back as Buttons neighs and darts in the opposite direction, gaining speed as he races into the distance, tail swishing behind him.

"Come on, they're coming,"

Daryl's voice drags her attention back to her surroundings and she unsheathes her knife.

...

"You are not skinning those on the porch, you already made enough mess with that damn possum," Carol glares from the doorway, spotting the string of rabbits hanging from Daryl's shoulder.

Beth and Daryl stop walking in front of the house where Carol is stood with her hands on her hips.

"We need to keep up appearances, even you," she narrows her eyes at Daryl.

He scoffs. "Hey, I ain't starting now."

Beth's eyes bounce for a moment between Carol's sharp gaze and Daryl's chin raised in defiance. She's reminded of Maggie and her mom, of teenage daring and motherly love, and the memory makes her feel happy and sad all at once.

"I'll bring them inside," Beth says, reaching up and grabbing the string of rabbits. Her words are directed at Carol but her eyes are fixed on Daryl.

He snorts, shrugs and digs in his pocket for a smoke. When Beth turns to Carol she finds her looking somewhere between relieved and curious. As she climbs the porch steps, Daryl sits himself down on them, lighting his cigarette and glaring out at the white picket fences.

...

"So, you and Daryl," Carol says suddenly once they reach the kitchen.

Beth stares back at her, her mouth falling open but no words coming out. Carol takes the string of rabbits out of her hand and puts them down on the kitchen counter, quickly untying them from the rope.

"You're young," Carol states simply, levelling her gaze on Beth. She feels her breath catch in her chest.

"But so is he."

Beth tilts her head, brows knitting in confusion. That wasn't what she was expecting.

"Inside, Daryl's still just a boy," Carol says with a sigh as she turns to lean on the counter.

"Your parents loved you and they raised you right. All Daryl has ever known is pain, and that stunts a person. Keeps them down, makes them believe they don't deserve any different."

Something in the tightness of Carol's voice tells Beth she knows exactly what she's talking about.

"You be careful with him now," Carol says, locking her eyes with Beth's, "If anyone's going to get hurt here it's Daryl, and if you hurt him I will come for you."

Beth swallows nervously. Her stomach rolls over at Carol's cut throat words. There is doubt in her mind that Carol will follow up on her word. She's not the same woman that Beth met on the farm; but neither is Beth.

"But I'm not worried," Carol says, cheerfully turning back to the rabbits on the counter. "You're a good person. You could really help him, if he lets you. You already are, I've never seen him smile like that. Or you."

She turns to Beth then, and her soft eyes turning thoughtful.

"I bet he's a beast in the sack."

Carol is looking at her with a smirk and she feels herself flush crimson from her hairline to the back of her neck.

"Are you being careful? A big hunk of a man like Daryl probably only needs to hold your hand to get you pregnant."

Beth starts to hyperventilate.

"Here. Take these," Carol says, opening a drawer and taking out an honest to God packet of condoms before pushing them into Beth's hand. "They only work if you use them," Carol says with a sly wink.

"Uh, thanks," Beth says, shoving the packet into her back pocket. She blushes again and is about to look away when Carol smiles.

As a breathless laugh forces its way past Beth's lips she feels something relax between them, reaching out and grabbing a rabbit from the pile.

They make quick work of the rabbits, using the skills they honed out of necessity on the road. When Carol turns on the tap to wash the blood away down the sink, Beth watches mesmerised by the running water swirling away. Just a few days ago they barely had enough clean water to drink and here they are pouring it down the drain like it's nothing. Where does it go? She wonders. Would any of these people even have the first idea how to find clean water out there? Will they, in turn, forget how to survive, if they don't have to fight to live?

When she looks up Carol is drying her hands on a tea towel. She meets Beth's eyes -warm, but with a question.

"This place is going to make us weak," Beth says, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans so as not to waste any more water and slipping it back in its sheath.

Carol sighs, her mouth pressing into a thin line.

A twitchy looking kid passes Beth on the porch and she holds Carol's door open for him as he mumbles something about a cookie maker. Her eyes find Daryl stooped on the porch, his back and his crossbow leant against the railing. When she looks down at Daryl and he looks up she's rocked by the spark she feels in her chest. It's clear that what this place takes from them with one hand it gives with the other, and her entire body thrums with the possibilities of what she might find here.