A/N: Alright, ladies. I did some revising today, because the only thing I'd written awhile back was the beginning of this chapter. But really, there needed to be more, because I'm setting some other stuff up. And also, I fear you've all gotten used to the larger chapters, and anything less will just seem like a teaser, am I right?! ;)

I wanted to say thank you for the reviews. I got some reviews on the last chapter that made me especially happy. I love all of you repeat reviewers, too, and I'm so glad everyone is loving the story, and simmering in the slow burn with me. It's nice, right? I've never been one to enjoy the love-at-first-sight scenarios, and I think the harder you work for it, the more rewarding it can be. Not everything, mind you, but... in this story, that's how I feel. I mean, come on... Daryl is worth every effort.

Anyway, thank you for all of the reviews and follows and favorites- I am happy every time I see a notification for my e-mail sending me the love. Reviews motivate me to work hard and to update faster, too, so keep that in mind ;) I have also taken into account some suggestions that people have said; like Atilia Dawn Black who mentioned wishing she had seen the reactions of Daryl's co-workers after what happened at the end of chapter 7, and I kicked myself because originally, in my outline, I'd had them really razzing on Daryl over the situation, and I just decided to leave it out. But knowing someone was missing it has given me the chance to find creative ways to write it back in there somehow, so... stay tuned for that! Tell me what you like, what you hate, and what you'd love to see more of. I'll do my best.

Enjoy!

Chapter 8

"Shoot," Beth muttered as she finally got her laptop to connect to the faint WiFi spewing out of the diner. She had 146 unread e-mails to go through. It was going to be an extremely long afternoon. She'd checked her inbox just last night when she pulled over in front of the diner on her way back home, to borrow Sasha and Tyreese's internet service, but there were hardly any e-mails. Some of the ones she was looking at were dating back a week, though, which meant her computer wasn't syncing with her company's server like it should have been. A lot of things had fallen through the cracks, and she was feeling the stress of her responsibilities wearing down on her. She could already see five contracts she needed to draw up for clients, and one more that needed to be revised. If it was the telecommunications company out of Connecticut again, she was going to scream. They'd already asked for 3 revisions, and she was at her limit.

Just then, her phone began to ring, jumping around inside the center console, shaking up all of her loose change to create an irritating buzz. She laid her computer aside and climbed over the back seat of her Jeep to reach up front and grab her phone. The screen informed her that the caller was none other than Lacy Shoemaker, Beth's boss.

"Good morning, Lacy," she answered politely, settling back onto her cushion situated in the back of the Jeep. The Jeep had, hysterically, become her new mobile office, complete with a comfortable beanbag and laptop cushion in the back. It had cupholders, a radio, and interior lighting, and Beth enjoyed opening the back hatch on days like this, when the weather was crisp and cool.

"Hello, Beth," Lacy responded curtly. If there was one person in the world with less of a sense of humor than her grumpy huntsman of a neighbor, it was Beth's boss. Without waiting for more pleasantries, Lacy continued.

"I am calling to ask for an update on the Tech-Co. contract. The request was sent to you four days ago and I've yet to receive a response from you. In fact, I have yet to receive a notification letting me know that you even so much as looked at the e-mail. Do you know what that tells me, Beth? It tells me that you aren't taking your job seriously anymore. I thought you were a team-player. But now we have balls being dropped left and right on your court and I'm the one left cleaning up these messes, Beth. It's not my job to be dealing with these clients, it's yours."

Beth's heart-rate increased; she hated letting people down. "I know, Lacy, and I am so, so sorry about that. I got here, and my house doesn't have internet, so I've been working out of a diner for the last few weeks. It has been crazy! The e-mails aren't syncing up to the server… it's a mess. I know. I'll fix it. I'll fix all of it." She climbed up through the seats until she was back in her driver's seat, and pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder so she could use both hands to dig through the stack of paperwork on her passenger seat. "I know I have the Tech-Co. contract in here somewhere; they weren't supposed to be doing so many revisions. I don't know why they can't just agree on a price and be done with it. I will contact them as soon as…"

"No," Lacy cut through Beth's strings of words.

"No?" Beth repeated, sitting back in her seat.

"I've already taken care of Tech-Co., Beth. And Lab Inc., and Firewheel. I've already done it. Look, the bottom line is, you obviously can't do this job from where you're at. I need you back in the office first thing Monday morning. This isn't working out."

Beth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Go back to Chicago? By Monday, no less! It was already 4 o'clock Saturday afternoon. There was no way she could get her affairs in order in such a short amount of time. Surely, Lacy could understand that. Besides, she escaped Chicago because of him. She barely made it out. She couldn't just go back and pretend like nothing happened. She couldn't just walk off of a plane and pick her life up where it left off. Chicago didn't feel like home for her anymore, anyway. Briefly, the image of her tiny, one-woman cabin flashed through her head, and she knew a decision had already been made. "Monday won't work for me, Lacy, I have a whole life set up out here, I can't just get up and…"

"Listen, Beth," Lacy interrupted again, sighing into the receiver. "I don't want to do it, but you haven't left me any choices. If you're not here by Monday, don't bother coming back in at all. You can consider it your termination."

Termination? All of the air left Beth's body. "Lacy, that's completely unreasonable! You can't expect me to be able to sell my house and pack my things and drive back up to Chicago and be in my office by Monday morning! There's no way! Look, I have three weeks of vacation I haven't taken yet this year, so I'll take it now, and that'll give me time to work things out. I'll make it work, Lacy. You know I always do."

"Not this time, darling," Lacy responded. "We need someone in the office. This long-distance thing doesn't work. Look, we'll have your vacation paid out onto your last check, okay? I'll mail it to you. I'm sorry about this. It's just the way it needs to be. I'm sure you'll do fine out there in Arizona. Take care."

There was a click, and then silence on the other end. Beth pulled her phone away from her ear to stare at it like it'd sprouted a head and hissed at her. Take care? she thought, belligerently. Four years of her life, of sacrificing all of her free hours and brilliance to that company, while Lacy took the credit for Beth's hard work, and that's what she gets? Take care?

Beth's blood began to boil as she stared at the phone in her hand, Lacy's number shining brightly on her call history.

"I'm in GEORGIA!" she screeched at her phone before she began to beat it against her dash. Disgusted with looking at it at all, she threw it out of the open driver's side window. Not caring that all of her windows were down and her trunk gate was open, Beth continued her assault on her steering wheel, beating it, and then grabbing it and tugging from side to side, as though she would have any chance of pulling it out of the car. She held her breath through it all, to keep the screaming at bay, until her lungs felt like they would burst. Finally, she lost her steam, slumping down into her seat and dropping her head onto her mildly abused steering wheel, where she began to bawl.

Ten minutes later, she had calmed herself down considerably. She never checked to see if anyone had seen her tantrum, but was thankful no one had been in the car with her. She had gotten over the big gasping sobs, and now her tears were slower and quieter as they traced paths down her cheeks.

Sitting up, Beth noticed movement outside her open window and glanced over to see none other than Daryl Dixon walking toward her. She was sure that she'd never get used to such a small town where she kept running into the same people over and over again, even one as mildly reclusive as Daryl.

He looked good as he sauntered over to her. His jeans were always a little worse for wear, but they suited him. He had on a long-sleeve black shirt that fitted his torso nicely, and over it he wore a black leather sleeveless vest that she hadn't seen before. His hair was always a tad on the messy side, and she could tell he didn't bother trimming it too often, but it gave him the look of someone who'd just rolled out of bed. The memory of how he'd looked asleep in her bed sent butterflies flitting around in her stomach. His hair was dark enough that it made his blue eyes pop even more, and despite the fact that Beth was usually only attracted to clean-shaven men, the scruff on Daryl's face made him handsome in a non-conventional way that she was quickly becoming more accustomed to.

His steps seemed to falter and slow as he neared her and realized she was crying. Beth knew she must look like a mess, but was thankful he apparently hadn't been witness to how she'd acted not long ago. She wiped at the wetness streaming down her cheeks and tried for a polite smile. It was unusual that Daryl was the one approaching her, after all. Especially after the last few weeks, when he had basically tried his best to sabotage any friendship they'd been forming before it could lead anywhere.

He stopped outside her Jeep and looked up and down the street like he was trying to see if he'd missed something. "You a'ight?" he asked, glancing at her from under his bangs. His question was simple, but she could see him sizing her up, his blue hunter's eyes taking in her whole appearance as he chewed on his lip a bit; a habit she noticed him do when he was uncomfortable.

Beth allowed herself a deep breath and wiped the remnants of her frustration off of her face. She always felt better after a good, honest cry. "I will be," she replied, hoping she believed it.

Daryl looked away from her face and focused on a car coming down the road. He was standing outside her door in the middle of the lane, and the car slowed, waiting for him to move. He narrowed his eyes a bit, keeping his feet firmly planted where he stood; he was even prickly during his nicer moments, Beth reflected. The driver must have recognized him, too, because the car finally went around Daryl, giving him a wide berth and continued on its way without so much as a honk. Beth could feel herself smirking when he turned back to look at her. He frowned a bit at her change of expression, but only said, "I'm on my way to the diner."

"Okay," Beth said. She took that as his cue to escape a crying woman, but instead, he stayed put, staring at her. She could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, like he had something on his mind that he didn't want to say out loud. Then it dawned on her that his announcement might have been meant as an invitation for her to join him. He shifted his weight to his other leg and scowled, seeming annoyed with the whole situation, and still rather uncomfortable.

As he turned to leave, she said, "I could use some ice cream."

He paused, glancing back at her out of the corner of his eye, and simply nodded his head. As Beth climbed out of her Jeep, Daryl stooped to the ground and picked something up. She glanced at what he had found and felt embarrassment heating her face. Daryl turned her demolished phone around in his hands, noting all of the cracks in the screen and the pieces missing from the teal protective casing. He raised an eyebrow at her before handing it back, but never verbalized any comments or questions.

"Thanks," she said, feeling awkward as she dropped her broken phone into the bottom of her purse. Sometimes, Daryl's silence unnerved her, but today it felt comfortable. Had anyone else found her in that state, there would have been a barrage of questions coming her way, and she was likely to lose her shit all over again just talking about what had happened. She felt like she owed him some measure of an explanation, though, just so he didn't think she'd gone off of the deep end.

"I got fired," she blurted out as they crossed the street to the diner, shoulder to shoulder.

When they got to the door, they both reached out for the handle at the same time. Daryl's longer arm allowed him to grab the handle first, and he swung the door open and stepped back to give her space to enter in front of him. She was momentarily dazzled at his sudden display of manners, until she registered the question he'd asked her. "Wait, what?" she asked, stupidly.

"I said, you had a job?"

"Of course I had a job. What did you think I did all day?" She stared at him until he turned and walked into the diner in front of her, letting her catch the door. His temporary chivalry forgotten, she followed him in and sat across the booth from him, pulling her scarf off of her neck and settling it in the space next to her without looking away from his face.

"Dunno. Didn't seem like ya did much of anythin'," he remarked, picking up his menu and ignoring her look of offense.

She was ready to unload on him. She had worked hard for that damn company. She'd climbed up the corporate ladder using her blood, sweat, and tears. Late nights, long days, a terrible commute, and dealing with cut-throats just biting at the bit for her to lose her footing and fail so they could move in on her beautiful corner office; that's what she'd been through for that 'job.' It wasn't just a job, it had been a career. While she was going to college full-time, she'd hit the pavement with resumes, knocked on doors and pestered the upper management of ad companies throughout Chicago to get an internship somewhere. She'd landed that one, and never looked back. She graduated college on the fast-track, using college credits she'd earned in high school, and had her Bachelor's degree by the time she was 21. She had decided to take a small break before delving into her Master's degree, which the company was going to pay for.

Her whole life had been planned out, and it'd been centered on her job. And now it was all gone, over one stupid mistake that turned into a nightmare, and a cabin in the woods without decent internet service. She opened her mouth to unload on Daryl for his rudeness in assuming she was lazy, or his opinion that she hadn't worked hard for everything she had, when she caught the slight smirk still tangled in the corners of his lips as he scanned the menu.

He was fucking with her.

Suddenly, it was as if all of the air had been let out of a balloon, and her righteous indignation deflated and disappeared. Daryl Dixon had enough of a sense of humor to tease, it appeared, and she suddenly felt like even though she'd taken three steps back today, she finally got to take one step forward.

She felt her lips curling up in a smirk similar to his and she replied, "Well, maybe that's why they fired me."

His eyes flickered upward and caught hers, blue on blue, and she could have sworn she saw his lips widen a bit at her counter-offense. Finally, he was opening up.

"Fired?" Sasha was there suddenly, breaking their trance, looking flustered with her pot of coffee. "Don't tell me you got fired, Beth." Sasha was truly a sweet person at heart, but Beth couldn't help but notice that she'd turned her body so that her back was slightly to Daryl, her eyes never moving to him, effectively cold-shouldering him out of the conversation. Beth wasn't sure if Daryl had noticed, but when she glanced at him, his attention was back on his menu and his face held no more trace of its previous humor.

"Uh, yeah," Beth stammered, bringing her focus back to Sasha. "I did, actually. They decided that they didn't want to waste a perfectly good corner office, I guess. I had the choice to jump back on a plane to Chicago or find a new job, and now we know how that turned out." She chuckled at her own statement, trying to make light of the situation. She didn't want Sasha to know how much getting fired was bothering her.

Sasha would have been extremely supportive and reassuring, helping point out the good that could come out of it, and basically just throwing a 'Go Beth, Go!' rally that Beth really didn't want to attend. It would have been with the best intentions, Beth knew, but she rather liked Daryl's method avoidance; where he acted like he hadn't just seen her bawling her eyes out like a child in her Jeep after throwing her smartphone out of the window in a temper.

"Well, their loss is our gain, Bethy," Sasha said encouragingly. "I'll be right back!"

She walked off briskly, but was back before Beth or Daryl had anything to say. She laid a plate in front of Beth that sported a giant wedge of cherry pie with a huge helping of whipped cream next to it. "It's on the house, sweetie," Sasha told her as she patted her shoulder and then walked off without bothering to ask Daryl what he wanted.

He glared at Sasha's retreating back until Beth slid her extra fork across the table at him. "Help me with this, would you?"

Daryl glowered at the pie like it did something wrong to him, and remarked, "Thought ya said you wanted ice cream?"

Beth shrugged, taking a bite of the delicious dessert. "I'm a jobless, aimless miscreant now, remember? I'll take all the free food I can get." She licked a dab of whip cream that had fallen onto her other hand and then grinned at him with her cheeks still full of pie.

He snorted at her in a way that sounded like it came dangerously close to a laugh, but then his face was serious again as he put both elbows on the table and turned the fork she gave him between his fingers, staring at it with much more concentration than she thought it was due.

Beth smiled to herself; she felt like she was finally starting to be able to read him better. Daryl was quick to be hostile. He wasn't afraid to make rude remarks or pick fights with people. He definitely had a temper on him. (Not that she was one to talk, though, after her little tantrum earlier.) When Daryl had something to say that wasn't aggressive, though, he was quiet and unsure of himself. It's not like the man was slow or anything, so Beth could only assume his hesitation stemmed from being uncomfortable with actually being openly kind to someone, or vulnerable in any way. He seemed afraid to ask innocent questions if it showed he was curious about something, and he was tentative to speak his mind on matters that were worthwhile or where he could be considered helpful in some way.

She vaguely pondered how Daryl might've turned out if he'd been born to different parents; loving ones. He was intelligent and witty, she could tell that much for sure. He was kind, and thoughtful in the most unexpected ways. She could tell by the way people treated him and reacted to him that he'd been an ornery kid, maybe even worse than that. But when it came down to nature versus nurture, she felt like nature won out most of the time. Despite his upbringing, the beatings he had apparently endured, and the bad influences of his childhood, she could see that Daryl was so much more than he let on; probably even more than he knew himself to be.

She stayed silent, waiting for him to gather the courage to say what he was mulling over in his head. She didn't want to ruin their hard-earned progress by saying something and having him clam up.

As she took down the giant pie slice one bite at a time, she watched Daryl toying with his fork. She hadn't really ever looked at his hands, but now that she was, she could tell that she liked them. His fingers were long, but muscular. His wrist was thick and corded with muscle, as well. His nails were short, but not bitten. Beth hated nail-biting, and found that she was relieved that he didn't do it. Though his hands were clean, the pads of his fingers and thumbs had grease and oil stains permanently embedded in tiny cracks of his skin, and his hands were calloused from working with them all his life.

He finally clenched the fork in one hand, and she wordlessly slid the plate closer to him. He stabbed a piece off of the same end she had been eating from and stuffed it in his mouth.

Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything after all, she smiled at him and asked casually, "Delicious, isn't it?"

He shrugged as he swallowed, abandoning his fork on his folded napkin. "Don't really like cherries."

Beth laughed at his admission. "Then why did you take a bite?!"

"You made it look good," he answered. As soon as the words left his mouth, he tensed up. Beth could tell that he didn't mean them to sound the way they came out. He hadn't tried to sound flirty, but there it was. She made it look good. His cheeks took on some color, and he dug a ten out of his wallet, a couple of other things falling out in his haste. He stood quickly, stuffing the bill into her hand, avoiding her eyes.

"I hafta be somewhere," he said without further explanation. Then he headed for the exit without looking back.

Beth sat there with the ten dollar bill crinkled in her palm, staring into empty space. "But the pie was free…" she said quietly.

She turned to watch him cross the street again, hands in his pockets. Sasha caught her eye, looking bewildered. Beth smiled and shrugged, then turned back around to finish her pie. On the table, he'd left a couple of crumpled receipts, and one of his business cards, bent up at the corners and dirtied. It said his first and last name, with the title Parts Department Manager underneath it. Centered below all of that was the phone number to the shop, and Daryl's cell phone number.

She knew he'd be embarrassed if he found out that he had managed to leave her his cell phone number, all after inviting her into the diner, accidentally flirting with her, and then paying for her dessert. She grinned, intent on using it to screw with him later. It had practically been the quickest, weirdest date she'd ever been on, after all.

For such an avid hunter, she mused, he sure was flighty.

The week had flown by, and Beth found herself at the end of her wits. She hadn't actually realized how much of her life she'd been devoting to her job until it wasn't there anymore. She knew she should keep her savings account up as large as possible, but was realistic enough to know that she would have a hard time finding another job like what she had, so her standard of living was bound to drop significantly anyway. Most companies wouldn't hire someone they hadn't met face-to-face, and it wasn't like she could Skype in the diner or waste money on plane tickets to fly around the country for interviews. On top of that, even if she found a company that wanted her, the odds of them allowing her to stay living where she was and work remotely were nearly zilch, especially without the same established work history that she'd obtained with her last job before she moved. She doubted she could find any sort of job around there that had anything to do with her college degree, and definitely nothing that would pay the large figures she had been earning at her last company.

Her options were bleak at best; hopeless at worst.

Rather than fall into a pit of self-pity and denial, though, Beth chose instead to stay busy. Without being able to expect income after next month, she decided that the best thing for her mood was to finish her cabin once and for all. She poured time, energy, and some carefully budgeted money into finishing her little home. She ordered a dark blue couch to match her comfy high-winged reading chair, found a hand-made dark cherry stained coffee table that she loved at a craft market, and finished replacing all of the rusty doorknobs with intricate, antique-looking cast iron knobs that had holes for skeleton keys and made her smile. She bought two more chairs for her kitchen table, neither of which were the same style, and spent two afternoons painting all four of them the same grey, along with the table. She updated her lighting, although wiring two of the dome lights she'd tried installing in the ceiling proved to be above her skill-level in electrical wiring.

At the beginning of the week, Beth had called and hired someone come out and install two phone-lines at her home. The main reason she decided to do it was because of the incident the night Daryl had fallen into the river. Her cell phone only worked from her cabin 15% of the time, at most, and she hadn't realized how big of a problem that was until an emergency had occurred. Now, she'd have a phone that she could use to call people on. Her sister, Maggie, would be grateful for it, because she'd always complained that she could hear the wind hitting Beth's phone whenever they tried to talk as Beth wandered around the square in town.

The second phone-line she had installed would be for a fax machine; no more running to Sasha's place every time she needed to send a document to a client. Beth wasn't sure where she would end up in the job market, but making money always involved people, and she figured she couldn't go wrong with a little extra communication at her home.

All-in-all, she kept herself busy and was happy with the decision she'd made to stay put instead of going back to Chicago.

Despite how proud she was of her progress, by Thursday Beth was happy to have an excuse to get out of the house and hang out with the girls. Lori had apologetically told Beth that they wouldn't be getting together until later because it was Halloween and she was taking her kids Trick-or-Treating, but since Beth had no cousins, nieces, or nephews, she was excited at the prospect of going with them. All of the others had jumped onboard, and even Carol had come out of her shell to ask if she and her daughter Sophia could come along and participate with the group.

Once it had finally begun to get late, Beth made herself a salad, and then started getting ready. Lori insisted Beth come dressed up, because it'd be more fun for the kids, she'd said. Beth suspected it was for other reasons, though, when Sasha later pried into what she was wearing and claimed that Beth's original idea to just put on a pair of demon horns and a pointed red tail wasn't good enough. "Show me you know how to look sexy," Sasha had said with a twinkle in her eye.

The fact was, Beth didn't know how to look sexy. She ate healthy and went jogging, so she felt comfortable in her own skin; but she did it because it made her feel good, not because of how it made her look to other people. She liked dressing comfortably, and only picked out things to wear that she liked. Short skirts, low tops, and other skimpy items that were deemed 'sexy' by most had always made her feel too exposed and uncomfortable. It didn't help that her daddy had always maintained high standards for his daughters, and he wouldn't have put up with her ever dressing up in sleazy nonsense.

She'd driven into the city earlier in the week to look for a costume that would fit the bill, and ended up with one that she liked, even though she wasn't too sure if it would pass Sasha's standards for sexy.

By the time she was done putting it on, she decided that it was indeed provocative in its own way. The costume she'd selected was a simple version of Catwoman. All she bought was the headband with black ears sewn onto it, a yellow belt with a long, curled black cat tail attached to the back of it, a black choke collar with small plastic spikes, and a pair of gloves that went up to her elbow, but had the fingers missing. She already owned a pair of tight-fitting black pants and black boots with thin, high heels to use for the costume. The only other thing she grabbed in town was a black tank top that was form-fitting and cut suggestively in the front to accentuate what little cleavage she possessed.

Once dressed, Beth curled her hair into loose ringlets, placing the headband on the crown of her head so that the ears were poking out from the waves of hair. Then she put on smoky black eye shadow, complete with cat-eye lines using her liquid eye-liner. Then, using a black make-up pencil, she filled in the tip of her nose and drew on whiskers. The final touch was crimson lipstick to match her bright red nails, and then she was ready to go. She didn't have a coat that really went with her outfit, though, so she just threw on a black aviator jacket with a cream fur collar, and figured it'd have to do.

At the last second, a thought occurred to her. Beth pulled out one of her smaller store bags, and put in the folded red blouse that Carol had been looking at in the store during their first girl-outing. She also threw in the devil horns and tail that she'd had already, and then grabbed her purse and left.

Upon entering Lori's house, Beth was ambushed by Sasha who squealed in delight and ran over to give her a huge hug.

"Look at you! You pulled it off!" She stepped back to admire Beth's costume in full, and Beth looked hers over in return. Sasha was dazzling in a golden flapper dress from the 20s. Her costume was complete from head to toe with a bejeweled headband sporting large feathers, long strings of pearls draped around her neck, elbow-length golden gloves, and strappy little heels. Beth felt relieved at Sasha's attire because a small part of her had been worried that she'd be the only one fully dressed up, despite what Lori had told her to do; everyone's idea of a Halloween costume varied.

Their hostess came over next, dressed like a simple cowgirl in jeans and a plaid shirt, completed by a plastic gun holster at her waist and a golden sheriff's badge pinned to her shirt. She leaned in for a hug from Beth, sporting a plastic cup full of liquid in each hand. "You look amazing!" Lori told her, handing her one of the cups.

"Thanks," Beth said, "So do you!"

Sasha shook her head disappointedly, eying Lori as she said, "Yeah, well, we agreed on sexy Halloween costumes."

Beth flicked Lori's little badge pinned on her pocket before she could respond and said, "I don't know, Sash. I bet Rick likes Lori's costume plenty." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as Lori laughed.

Wandering around, Beth politely introduced herself to some of the other moms who had kids that were friends with Lori's son, Carl. She was interested to see that most of the other women hadn't dressed up. When she asked Sasha about it, the other woman only grinned and promised that Beth would find out soon enough. Beth could tell they had nefarious plans cooking.

Carol finally came through the door as the sun was setting. She, like the other moms not part of their group, was not dressed up as anything. Her daughter was wearing a princess costume that looked a little small, and had definitely seen better days. Her hair was clean and shiny, though, and had been curled and pinned up with the utmost care.

"You are the most beautiful princess I've ever seen!" Beth exclaimed as she knelt down in front of the little girl, who just looked shyly on from behind the safety of her mother. The child had the same timid demeanor as Carol, and Beth's thoughts travelled back to the last Thursday they'd gotten together, when Carol hadn't been able to make it at the last minute. Lori had been the one to utter a few key phrases on what she thought about Carol's husband, Ed, but none of the girls elaborated. Beth glanced up at Carol, who smiled kindly down at her. Behind Carol's foundation of make-up, Beth could see the healing bruise blooming around Carol's jaw-bone.

Her mind made up, Beth stood and took Carol's hand. "I'm going to borrow your mommy for a minute, alright sweetie? We're going to see if we can make her look like a princess, too."

Carol laughed nervously, and Beth led her toward Lori's hallway bathroom, with the bag containing the red blouse in hand. If they were going to have a real girl's night out tonight, Carol was damn-sure going to do it wearing something she'd thought was beautiful, Beth decided. She wouldn't be taking no for an answer, and if Carol wanted to fight her on it, she'd soon find out how stubborn Beth Greene really was.