A/N: Oh, wow. So, I posted my first chapter of my first fanfic, Cabin in the Woods, only this morning, and I've already gotten some reviews and lots of people following the story, and adding it to their favorites. You guys rock! I'm so excited that, even though I wasn't looking forward to writing again this weekend, I busted out chapter two for you guys. I'm feeling the love.

Anyway, in case it wasn't apparent, this is going to be a slow-burning Bethyl. I really think Daryl is a hard nut to crack and even in this AU, he'd be hostile and difficult. So, I hope you will enjoy his torment as much as I do, because there will be lots of it. Enjoy! And as always, if you leave me feedback and stuff, I will appreciate it, and it will make me motivated to write. Enjoy!

[I own nothing of the Walking Dead or its characters.]

Chapter 2

Beth had been convinced that her hasty, ill-thought out plan to drop everything and move to Georgia was the worst thing she had ever done. At least, that's how she had felt as she stood on the porch of her newly acquired little cabin. The pictures online had advertised the cabin as quaint and homey. Normally, she'd never get a place without checking everything out, but this was a different situation. It was either buying a place on a whim, or sleeping in her car, because getting out of Chicago had been her number one priority.

The elderly man selling the place was polite and accommodating, which was reassuring. The little town Beth chose to move to only had 3,418 people as of last year's census poll. As such, it didn't have very many apartments to choose from, and most of them were tiny, to accommodate elderly living. The payments on the small cabin were cheaper than the rent for an apartment of equal size. This way, she could build some equity up, too. She'd never owned property before, and despite everything going on back in Chicago, the thought of having a place to call her own thrilled her.

So, she'd said yes. She had packed her bags, hopped into her car, and drove the long way down to sign the papers. She bought it sight-unseen, but the previous owner and the property inspector both assured her of its structural integrity. To her, everything else was secondary. Besides, she felt like having home projects to work on would take her mind off of the last two years and help keep her hands busy; it might help her heal and get back to a good place in her life.

After she got to the cabin and realized that it needed about as much work as she did to be fully functional, she had begun to doubt her spontaneity. But, Beth Greene was as stubborn as a mule. She came by the trait honestly, from her father, and the only person more stubborn than Beth was probably her older sister, Maggie. So instead of admitting she'd made a mistake, Beth stared down her ugly, run-down old cabin and accepted her new challenge. This place was going to be her new home, and a beautiful one at that.

Beth had then set off with a renewed sense of purpose. She spent the first week just cleaning; her cabin hadn't been lived in for over 15 years. The elderly man who owned it kept up with repairs, but had refused to live in it after his wife passed away. Beth could tell that his wife must've loved their little cabin, based on the worn-out curtains that looked like they had once been ruffled, and a cute country pink. There were also a few pieces of furniture still left in there, her favorite being an old-style rocking chair that was still in good shape. She had asked the owner if he wanted anything out of there before she took it over, but he insisted it was all hers to do with what she pleased. None of it was up-to-date or even remotely similar to her taste in furniture, but because she left Chicago with only what she could haul in her 2-door Audi coup, having a dresser and a table with two chairs was something to be grateful for.

The only thing she'd had to buy from town right away had been a mattress. She paid to have it delivered, but two men in a truck just followed her home with the mattress- something that made her oddly happy. She realized then that, despite the work needed on the cabin, and despite being surrounded by strange people and furniture that wasn't hers, Beth had made the right decision in moving.

Throughout the first week, she had also tried a different food place every evening. By Friday, though, she had a clear winner- Joe's Place. It was family-owned, like most everything else in town, and was run by a brother-sister duo named Sasha and Tyreese. Joe, Beth learned, had been their great-grandfather. Now, Ty ran the kitchen most days, while Sasha served food and kept their books. Beth liked Sasha immediately upon meeting her, and when Sasha learned that Beth was new in town, she immediately invited her to a girl's-night at her place that she and her friends did every Thursday evening.

Then on Saturday, there was a slight hiccup in Beth's new-found sense of independence and peace. She'd gone out for an early morning jog, hoping to scope out her acre and see what other roads or neighbors could be found in her area. She was surprised to find that her cabin was even more secluded than she'd previously imagined. The thought of no one being able to hear her scream if something happened made her nervous, but she put the thoughts from her mind and looked at the bright side of things. For instance, her property was gorgeous. Huge trees surrounded her little haven, and she loved the way the air smelled so clean and fresh; so unlike Chicago and their big city smog. She'd taken note of the birds she saw that day as she jogged, and kept watch of the trail ahead, careful not to let any roots trip her up. She'd left her iPod and phone at home, content to just listen to nature as she threaded her way through the trees. Then, everything had gone downhill.

First, there was that giant, russet-colored monster with jowls that spotted her on the trail and gave chase. She still couldn't believe that she'd dove into a thicket of vines and branches that were covered in thorns. She still had a patchwork of scabs trying to heal after that little mistake. Then, there was him. He had been inches away from shooting an arrow through her eyeball, and then had the audacity to act angry at her for being there in the first place. Like it was her fault she got chased down by a stray dog. His hands and wrists had been covered in what she could only assume was blood, and his hair had a leaf hanging out of it. He looked like the wood itself had spit him up out of nowhere.

Beth thought back to him throughout the day sometimes. She never learned his name, because after he led her the 7 miles back to her cabin in silence, he just stopped to glare at her like he was still mad about everything. When she introduced herself and thanked him for saving her, he had grunted and walked off. He was a little odd, but something in Beth's gut told her he wasn't someone she should be worried about coming back while she was alone in her cabin. He seemed more perturbed at her intrusion on his day than anything else. After they'd begun their trek back to her house, he hadn't said a word or looked in her direction. The walk was indeed as enjoyable as it could have been after the incident leading up to it, and Beth found herself in good spirits again by the time he left her at her home.

By the half of the second week, Beth had already been all over town. She bought some new clothes at every little boutique she went into and greeted the shop owners with enthusiasm and curiosity. She had acquainted herself with the layout of the main part of town, and had picked up groceries and supplies to stock her empty house from the grocery store. She picked up a gallon of sky blue paint from the hardware store, blushing when the polite young man behind the counter told her it matched her eyes as he was handing it over after mixing it up. Since she had still been waiting on a shipment of pots and pans that she had ordered over the internet, she ate small snacks and salads throughout the day, but continued eating dinner at Joe's.

Once that next Thursday had hit, Beth drove to Sasha's house, using the directions she had been given. As soon as she walked through Sasha's doorway, she'd felt an amazing sense of belonging; the other ladies there were just as welcoming as Sasha. A few, Beth had even met on her trek through town. Lori, the sheriff's wife, ran a clothing boutique a block from Sasha's diner. There was also a woman there named Karen, Tyreese's wife, who worked at the only bank Beth had laid eyes on in the square. The third woman she met was Carol, an older lady with short grey hair, a reserved demeanor, and strikingly blue eyes. The whole evening had been spent with wine and laughter, and hardly a craft project touched, (although, that's what they had insisted they got together for.) They assured each other as they left Sasha's that, next week, they'd definitely do the wreaths they'd been talking about. Beth, who was threatened to be dragged back if they didn't see her there every Thursday night from then on, got in her car with a huge smile plastered on her face and a sense of peace that had settled over her soul.

After that, Beth had taken to bringing her laptop into the diner to work on. It was one of the few places in town that offered WiFi, and something Beth hadn't taken into consideration before buying a place in the woods was the internet connection. Her cabin, as it turned out, had none. But she enjoyed the steady stream of townsfolk, and Sasha insisted that she didn't mind a bit if Beth was there. She'd said something to the effect of a mouse taking up more room, which Beth appreciated. She was still careful to leave if the diner began filling up in a lunch rush, though. Aside from the noise distraction, she didn't want to be impolite and hold up a table that Sasha could make more money off of.

The week had flown by, and Beth felt like she'd done a satisfactory job of building her new life, juggling her job in Chicago that she now telecommuted to, and making friends. In fact, she'd hardly thought about Zach at all since she'd been there. Thank god.

She sent one final e-mail out and then closed her laptop, sighing contentedly. She gulped down the rest of her sweet tea as Sasha came over. "Already quitting time? Or do you want a refill?"

"No thanks, Sash, I'm finished for the day. I'm going to hit the grocery store before I come over tonight, though. Is there anything I can bring? Last week I practically came empty-handed."

Sasha smiled down at Beth and began clearing her plates. "You can bring whatever you want. The bottle of wine you came with last time was delicious. If you want different snacks, that's fine, too. Just make sure you pick up a glue gun. We are doing the wreaths this time!"

Beth laughed at Sasha's determination. Apparently, the girls had been ready to do the wreaths for two months now, but every time they got together to do it, there was too much talking and merriment that distracted them from the project at hand. Nothing, it seemed, ever got accomplished; and Beth was just fine with that.

Sasha walked off, but when she got to the counter, she noticed Beth digging through her purse. "Don't you leave me money again for those two slices of toast you ate, Beth. Do you hear me? That isn't worth my time to walk back over to this register."

She knew Sasha was just trying to be nice, but she didn't need free food from the diner, even if she only had some toast as an afternoon snack. So, she threw a twenty down on the table, to make up for all the other free food Sasha had been forcing on her, and slipped out of the booth before Sasha could say anything else. "See you tonight!" Beth said, winking as she exited into the humid August air.

After tucking her laptop and light jacket into the trunk of her car, Beth made her way to the grocery store on foot. Even for August, the weather wasn't terrible. Beth had certainly expected the heat to be much worse in Georgia, but she found that all the vitamin D she was soaking up must be good for her, because her mood had been better there than it had been up in Chicago for months.

Upon entering the store, she grabbed a plastic basket to carry her items in, and began a circuit around the outside of the aisles, starting to the left in produce. The fruit was always so ripe and appetizing that she had a hard time picking out what she thought she'd be in the mood for in the next couple of days. She ended up with practically one of everything. She grabbed a couple of bags of mixed lettuce and then headed over to look for more dressing and croutons.

As she was passing an endcap, she noticed a box of her favorite granola sitting on the top shelf. The lower shelves had different granola brands, but not hers. After she peeked behind every box she could reach, she glanced around for help, but didn't see anyone in the aisles. Tucking the handles of her basket into the crook of her elbow, she stepped onto the lower shelf and used the higher shelves to pull herself up. She had to stretch ever vertebrae she had, but she finally grasped her box of granola with the tips of her fingers. She pulled it closer and closer until she could get a good grip on it.

Beth grinned at her small accomplishment and held onto the box as she let go of the shelving and hopped down from her perch. Just as her feet landed on the floor, something solid rammed into her back, digging into her lower spine. She pitched forward, dropping her box and her basket, barely catching herself before she landed flat on her face.

"Sonofabitch!"

Beth stood and held onto her lower back where pain was radiating upwards from her spine. She felt like the skin was probably broken or scraped, but otherwise fine. She turned as soon as she heard the rough exclamation, coming face to face with the man from the woods. He had his hands clenched on his shopping cart, which is what she had apparently collided with as he was coming around the corner of the aisle.

"You sure are out to get me," Beth said, light-heartedly, still rubbing the sore spot on her back.

She realized as she stared at him that she hadn't mentally exaggerated what a lovely shade of blue her huntsman's eyes had been. He narrowed them at her now, like two slivers of tundra ice in his disgruntled face. "Tryin' ta off yourself, more like. How come every time I see ya, yer off doin' somethin' crazy stupid? Ain't you got a head on yer shoulders, girl?"

As he insulted her, though, she watched as he came around the cart and began picking up the spilled contents of her basket. She knelt down to help, and soon, all of her items were back in place, including her hard-earned granola.

"No wonder you ain't got no sense," he muttered, eying her basket of produce. "You eat like a damn rabbit."

Unable to help herself, Beth laughed at his assessment, earning her another sharp look from him. "As opposed to the shopping excursion you've got going on here," she responded, digging through his cart. There were a couple of frozen meals that could be heated up in a microwave, but the majority of his food items were in cans. He even had a package of assorted plasticware sitting there, and not one fresh fruit in sight. "Looks like you're getting ready to hunker down or something."

She flicked her eyes up to his and held his gaze as a grin spread across her face. "You think there's gonna be a zombie apocalypse sometime soon or what?"

If anything, his scowl got darker. She couldn't figure out why she was teasing this poor man whom she'd apparently done nothing but annoy on the two occasions she happened to bump into him, but there it was. She couldn't put her finger on why, but getting a rise out of her huntsman was a little fun for her.

"You ain't even gonna be around to see tha damn apocalypse the way you keep on," he said. "Runnin' into thorn bushes an' jumpin' offa shelves in grocery stores. What the hell were you doin' up there, anyhow?"

Beth could feel how big her smile was, and she probably looked like a lunatic, but she was happy to have finally run into the guy who led her out of the woods. Even though, she hadn't intended to literally run into him. That was just the humor of life. His curt comments didn't seem as rude as he probably tried to make them sound, and she found herself completely humored by the whole exchange. "I couldn't reach the box of granola I wanted," she responded, pointing to her basket.

He looked at the granola, then back at her and she could see his jaw clench. Then he reached onto the shelf next to him, right around the corner from her, and pulled out the exact same box that was in her basket. It had been at arm's reach the entire time. At that, Beth laughed.

"No sense at all," he muttered, although his voice was less agitated sounding.

"Well," Beth said, taking the box from him, "now I have two."

As she stuffed the second box in her basket without breaking eye contact, she could swear she saw his lip curl up a bit in what could turn into a grin. She could tell he was holding himself in check, though. He didn't want her to know he thought she was amusing, too.

"My name is Beth Greene," she said, re-introducing herself to him, just like she had after they'd gotten to her cabin that fateful day in the woods.

"I know," he said, offering no further comment, including his own name.

Beth, her grin still plastered to her face like she was a silly 14 year old girl instead of a grown woman of 23, kept eyes locked with the huntsman, daring him to be sociable and at least tell her his name. His hair hung low in his face, but both eyes were focused on her from between the strands.

He cleared his throat and then said, "Daryl."

Beth felt her teasing grin drop into a smile, satisfied that she'd gotten something real out of him for once. "It's nice to meet you, Daryl."

He snorted, probably thinking that hitting her with his shopping cart wasn't exactly 'meeting' her, but he didn't say anything further. Just then, his eyes shifted to a spot over her shoulder, and all of the humor left his face, to be replaced by a blank, if not slightly hostile, expression.

Beth heard her name being called out, and turned to see Lori pushing a loaded shopping cart toward them. Next to her, Daryl let out a breath and steered his cart around her, striding off without looking back. As he passed Lori, the two eyed each other reproachfully.

Dumbfounded, Beth watched their interaction and wondered if maybe the two had ever had a thing. Daryl didn't really seem like Lori's type, but then, everyone has done something they're not proud of in their late teens, early 20s. Beth certainly knew that feeling.

Lori smiled as she stopped in front of Beth, greeting her with a hug as old friends would do. But when Lori pulled back, Beth could see the alarm in her eyes. "Everything alright?" she asked, staring Beth down.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Beth said lightly. "Just had a run-in was all."

"Believe me," Lori said, clearly looking relieved, "everyone has had a 'run-in' with a Dixon."

"A Dixon?" Beth asked, not sure what Lori was getting at.

"Gosh, I feel like you've been around a lot longer than a couple of weeks. I forget you're not from around here. Except for that Northern accent of yours," Lori smiled at her briefly. "The man you were talkin' to is Daryl Dixon. The Dixons, well… they're not real well-liked around these parts, you know what I mean?"

Beth nodded, but she didn't feel like she knew what Lori meant. Daryl seemed to care very little about what people thought of him, and he definitely didn't strive to make nice with her. But, he'd also escorted her back to her cabin when she was lost and helped pick up the grocery items she'd dropped when he'd accidentally run into her with his cart earlier. She didn't see him as someone so dislikeable that there needed to be a verbal warning label attached to him.

"Still coming over tonight then, I hope?" Lori asked, her face free of any traces of worry.

"Of course," Beth said, smiling back at her. "I'll see you at Sasha's at 8."

Maybe there, she could get some answers.