A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews! And welcome to the new followers who are enjoying the story as well!

I used Beth's chapter to set some things in motion, because I finally figured out the plot outline of where I want to take the story from here, and I definitely write quicker and easier when I have more of a plan. So that's the good news!

I wanted to kind of delve into Daryl a bit more… I think I did a good job of it at the beginning of the story, but then I focused so much on trying to form some chemistry between him and Beth in my universe that I think some of the other stuff I wanted to accomplish with Daryl's character kind of fell to the wayside. We all love Daryl, so I don't think anyone will complain… ;) Just for a taste, though, here's a quote from Norman Reedus himself about the character of Daryl Dixon that kind of got this whole story rolling in the first place:

"He's ashamed of who he is and thinks everyone doesn't like him. He's one of those guys, like, like an animal. If you found an animal in an alley and it was raining and you approach it, it would try to bite you. But if you could get it inside and feed it and take it somewhere warm, it would follow you forever. He's kind of got that vibe to him."

Anyway, thank you all for the well-wishes =) I hope you will all like what's coming. Then I promise I'll give the story some kind of a proper ending so it doesn't turn into the story that never ends, haha.

Enjoy!

[Also- Disclaimer: A line from this chapter was taken from The Walking Dead. I misused it for my own nefarious purposes, but lay no claim to owning or otherwise benefiting from the copyrights of the show.]

Chapter 25

As they pulled into the parking lot behind the diner, Daryl could feel his anxiety peaking.

He'd started the day injured, sore, and sleep-deprived, and then stressed the entire way home about losing the only job he'd ever taken pride in. Ron threw him for a loop by being understanding, and then Daryl spent the next hour reeling from his terrifying shower revelation regarding Beth and her role in his life.

After that mess, he'd stopped by the diner to pick up a slice of cherry pie for the crazy blonde with a clamp around his heart, only to find himself consoling her waitress friend, who'd seemed under the impression Beth had been at death's door the night before. He'd had to assure her numerous times that Beth was fine before she'd actually let it go. He even made an effort by informing the woman that it was Beth's birthday, which only served to throw her into a frenzy of planning.

Subsequently, he had been handed a box with a slice of pie in it and a set of keys, along with the instructions that he was to bring Beth her Jeep and then keep her busy until six thirty. At that point, he was to escort her back to the diner for whatever surprise the waitress could possibly throw together in such a short amount of time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Daryl glanced at the dashboard clock in Beth's Jeep as she cruised through the center of town, and realized it was already nearly three forty-five in the afternoon; two hours and forty-five minutes to go before the party.

Then, as the driver's side door slammed, Beth's clean, agonizing scent wafted across the small interior of the vehicle and hit him head-on, breaking him out of his ponderings. They had parked, and that damn girl was halfway to the door of the diner before Daryl registered what she was doing. Shit, what if the diner-owning-duo had already begun decorating for Beth's surprise get-together? He had let her wander right to the damn place. That was the opposite of what he'd been asked to do.

"Wait…" he said dumbly; she couldn't hear him from inside the fucking Jeep.

He jumped out and jogged over to her as she poised with her hand on the diner's door handle. "Beth! Hold on!"

"That's strange," she said, looking at a hastily scribbled sign that had been taped eye-level to the front door. Clearly, she hadn't been paying attention to him. "Sasha and Ty are closing the diner up early tonight… right around dinner, too. That'll lose them a lot of money. I wonder why they'd be doing that? I hope everything is alright."

Daryl grunted in response, only half listening to her as he tried unsuccessfully to peer through the diner's windows in search of anything indicative of a birthday party. The green sky reflected strangely against the glass though, destroying the transparency.

Beth followed a few people through the doorway, so Daryl went in behind her, unable to think of a good enough reason to get her to turn around and leave without tipping her off.

He was relieved to find that the inside of the diner remained decorated as it always was; not a balloon in sight. The air, however, smelled suspiciously like a baking cake, but since it also smelled like burgers, fries, and other greasy diner food, Beth didn't seem to take special notice of it.

The noise level was deafening; the diner was unusually packed for the early hour it was. It was too late to eat lunch and too early for dinner in most cases, but even so, every table was filled and he and Beth were stuck in a line waiting to be seated. A group trying to exit helped tightly cram them together with other people in the small entryway, and Beth had to take a step back to let another older couple pass in front of her. When she did, her tight round ass pressed right up against Daryl's groin, and he suddenly felt the way he had when he'd accidentally landed on her earlier; irrationally aroused.

She was too fucking close, he decided, as her coconut hair tickled his unshaven chin. He tried to step back and put some much-needed distance between their bodies, but he hit a wall of people who'd entered the diner behind them.

As if his adrenals weren't worn out enough from the stress of the last two days, Beth had exited her house the second time looking like she walked off of the cover of one of those chick magazines in the store. Not that he'd used the word 'gorgeous' to describe anything in his life other than the occasional nicely refurbished bike or two, but in her case, it was warranted.

She didn't look sexy in the way that most girls of his ilk tried to look sexy, which basically consisted of less and less clothing until the only thing keeping their nipples in their skimpy shirts was sheer force of gravity. No, Beth was classy. She had every inch of skin covered from her collar bones down, and still managed to send all of his blood south. The dress she'd thrown on was some sort of knitted fabric that was soft to the touch, but hugged every curve the damn woman possessed. It was practically antagonizing him.

He'd already firmly resolved with himself that he'd never touch Beth. She was too nice for her own good and obviously had some sort of hero-complex when it came to him; her rose-tinted glasses were preventing her from seeing him how he actually was. If he was being honest with himself, he liked that she saw him differently. Beth treated him like he wasn't trash, and it was the greatest gift anyone had ever given him. Because of that, he was too selfish to cut her out of his life, like he'd tried many times before, despite knowing that she'd be better off without him in this town. However, he wasn't delusional enough to think that he deserved any of her unwarranted affections, either. On top of that, she was his friend, which he found bizarre. He actually liked talking to her, listening to her, and having her around. He respected her too much to put his hands on her and ruin the comfortable vibe they shared. The decision left him in a self-induced purgatory; he couldn't let go and get over her, but wouldn't let himself get under her, either.

However, the more he was around her, the more tormenting it all became. He couldn't decide if she was trying to destroy him on purpose or not, but after she came out of her cabin in that infernal outfit today, he was leaning more toward yes.

The idea was cemented a bit more when another group of people exiting caused Beth to squish into him further, and then she tilted her head back and smiled at him sweetly; like she didn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile, he felt like he was getting ready to implode from holding everything at bay.

Daryl was finally able to squeeze himself sideways so that she wasn't flush against his pelvis, but as another party of customers crowded into the diner to escape from the cold outside, a random man took up residence in Daryl's previous spot- right behind Beth. The guy wasn't grinded against her, or even touching her, for that matter, but he was still too close for Daryl's liking.

Then it happened; the guy leaned back and took in an appreciative eyeful of Beth's ass.

That damn dress was going to be the undoing of him.

Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but then reminded himself that it wasn't his place to lay a claim on Beth, even if the guy was leering like a tool. The result was a vibration that got stuck in Daryl's throat, which actually came out sounding more like a growl than anything coherent.

The asshole turned and eyed him warily, but when Daryl narrowed his own eyes in a barely concealed threat, the dude took a hint and shifted so he was closer to his group and further from Beth.

Just then, the couple standing in front of them was escorted to a table by a waitress Daryl had never seen before, freeing Beth to step forward to the podium. He followed her, thankful that they were finally getting the chance to escape the crowd in the doorway. Large groups of people made him anxious.

At the podium, checking the diagram of tables, stood Beth's friend that he'd visited earlier… Sasha, he remembered.

"Welcome to Joe's! How many in your party today?" she said cheerfully. Then she looked up at the two of them. Recognition and shock played out all over her features; she'd be a terrible poker player.

"Oh my… Beth! This is such a surprise! What are you doing here?" she asked, glaring pointedly at Daryl over Beth's shoulder as the women gave each other a hug.

He frowned and narrowed his eyes at her in response. What did she expect him to do? Tell Beth that she was banned from the diner all day? Coming here was like a damn ritual for that girl.

Pulling back, oblivious to their exchange behind her back, Beth laughed at her friend. "What do you mean? You made me promise to come visit you this afternoon, just to prove that I was in one piece!"

"Of course," Sasha said, trying to play it off. "I just figured you'd be busy until later, that's all."

Daryl curled his lip at her implications, but before he could figure out how to retort without giving anything away, Beth responded, "Why would you assume I'd be busy all day?"

"No reason," the girl replied, gathering up their menus. She was bad at this; she would blow the whole surprise if she kept it up. "Let's get you seated!"

After she led them to the table and got their drink orders, Sasha whisked herself away and left Daryl and Beth to maneuver into the little booth for two that was packed tightly in the corner. Beth, being in front, plopped down in the seat against the wall, leaving Daryl to sit with his back against the bustling diner. He seated himself slowly, aware of how uncomfortable and unnatural it felt to have his back exposed.

"I am starving!" Beth said enthusiastically while she perused the menu options.

Daryl said nothing as he tried to focus on his menu. Someone dropped a plate somewhere behind him and the loud sound caused him to tense up. He hated lots of noise, unless he was in the garage working on cars or bikes. The whizzing sounds of the torque wrenches and the revving of engines set him at ease; reminded him of days spent watching Merle work on his bike in the garage as a kid. Broken plates, however, reminded him more of his da when he was growing up, and how the man would storm around the trailer in a drunken rage until there was nothing left to destroy.

Daryl flinched when he felt something touch his arm, but it was only the soft, warm pressure of Beth's hand.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, 'm fine," he lied.

"You look…" she paused, and he ignored her while she searched for answers on his face. He was good at hiding his emotions, but she had a knack for digging them up, so he did his best to keep his expression neutral.

"Unnerved," she finished.

He hoped she hadn't noticed that he'd left her hand where it was; the feeling of her warm palm and slender fingers wrapped delicately around his forearm was keeping him grounded and focused on her instead of the anxiety building in his chest. He didn't answer her, though. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to admit his weakness; admit that too much noise and too many people, and having his damn back exposed, freaked him out. He was afraid to admit how damaged and broken he really was. He couldn't even do something normal like sit in a fucking diner and eat lunch with her because it was too packed and his ghosts were out to haunt him.

"Let's go," she said suddenly. He had said nothing, but per usual, she could see straight fucking through him.

"No, 'm alright," he repeated, loathe to ruin her birthday. "Let's just eat."

"You're uncomfortable," she pointed out. "And a bad liar."

"I'm not a bad liar," he said.

"But you're uncomfortable."

He looked at her then, denial on the tip of his tongue. But then a baby started shrieking from somewhere near the doors, and he could feel his shoulder and neck muscles start to cramp from being so bunched up. Beth smiled sweetly at him and squeezed his arm before moving her hand just as Sasha hurried back over and dropped off their drinks.

"Do you guys know what you want to order?" Sasha asked, looking frazzled by the rush, but still smiling down at them.

"Actually," Beth said, looking up at her friend apologetically, "I'm coming down with a bit of a headache and the noise in here isn't helping me out any. Do you mind if I bring my drink to go? We'll get out of your hair and let someone else have the table."

"No, we should stay," protested Daryl. He knew she was hungry. There was no reason to leave because he couldn't handle his shit.

"I'd rather go," Beth said. "We can come back another time when it's not so jammed and loud."

"That's a great idea," Sasha said, a little too enthusiastically. Despite the booming rush, her head was apparently still in surprise party mode. "Get on out of here and rest up. Don't let that headache get you down, okay? Go do something relaxing!"

Beth chuckled as her friend dashed off to help other tables of waiting customers.

"See?" she said, looking back at Daryl. "No harm done. Let's get out of here."

Once they were back outside, Daryl closed his eyes and tipped his head back, reveling in the crisp weather. With each lungful of fresh, cold air he inhaled, his heart slowed and his muscles relaxed. The noise from the diner could still vaguely be heard from the outside, but it was only a low mumble through the thick glass. Peace had begun to settle back into him, until he distinctly heard a stomach growl.

He opened his eyes and looked at Beth, who had an apologetic grin covering her face. He felt like such an asshole for making her ditch lunch. Hell, he wasn't even sure why she was bothering to hang out with him on her birthday in the first place. She had plenty of other friends who were actually normal and affectionate.

"Listen, I know I brought your Jeep back t' you, but it was really nothin'… I don' want you t' feel like you need t' hang out with me all day t' make up for it or anythin'."

"Come on, Daryl, that isn't what this is, and you know it." Beth argued, putting a hand on her hip like she was preparing to get exasperated with him. All it did was draw his attention to how amazing she looked in that damn dress.

"Wouldn't ya rather hang out with someone else all day? I don't know shit about how t' give someone a nice birthday, Beth…"

"No," she said simply. That was it, too. Just… No.

"You ain't gonna have no fun with me," he warned. He'd never had a fun birthday, and no one he knew really celebrated birthdays. Sure, there were normal things that he knew of that all guys did for girls for their birthdays- nice restaurants, jewelry, flowers, movies. He just wasn't that kind of guy. He even warned her months ago that he wasn't the kind of guy to do shit like that. She was better off with other friends for occasions such as these.

Sighing, Beth turned and began walking toward her Jeep in the parking lot beside the diner. As she dug her Jeep keys out of her pocket, a small piece of paper was pulled out with them, and it fluttered to the ground behind her.

Daryl bent to pick it up for her, just in case it was something she needed, and then began following her to the Jeep.

He could feel the disappointment coming off of her in waves, but he wasn't sure what the hell she was expecting from him. He couldn't think of any way to spend her birthday that wouldn't absolutely suck for her. She'd have fun once she got to the diner later that evening, but he wasn't sure how to keep her day going happy until it was time for the party.

He hated that he was so bad at this shit, and he squeezed his hand into a fist in frustration. He felt the paper crumple in his grasp, so he opened his hand and began smoothing it back out.

As soon as he read what was on it, he stopped walking.

There, in small, ugly, scribbled handwriting was the message, Thanks again. –D

She'd been carrying around the little note he'd written on the pad of paper anchored to her fridge before he left her cabin that morning.

Initially, like an idiot, he was baffled as to why.

Then, slowly, the reasoning sank into his thick, stupid skull.

Beth actually liked him.

Maybe just as a friend, or perhaps she was lonely for male companionship; after all, she'd moved clear across the continental U.S. to get away from her asshat of an ex-boyfriend. Daryl doubted she'd dated anyone since him, and it had been awhile since she left. But still, there it was. She'd treasured his handwritten note enough to pull it off of the fridge and stick it in her pocket for the day.

He wasn't sure why Beth was fixated on him of all people, but he finally understood that whatever it is Beth is doing, she isn't doing it for kicks. She genuinely wanted to spend her damn birthday with a Dixon.

The entire notion of it sent excitement bubbling in his belly, but it also scared him shitless. It was easy to hold her at arm's length when he felt like a bobble in the massive collection of people that she loved and cared about. He could handle being another person in her life; after all, she made friends everywhere she went. People couldn't help but be drawn to her, like moths to a flame. But to be more than that to Beth? To be the only person she cared to spend her day with? That terrified him to his very core.

However, she'd done so much for him already; things she didn't even mean to do. She gave him purpose and a better sense of himself as a man. He'd have to be a heartless idiot to squander everything she's already evoked in him and just send her on her way.

A long time ago, he'd promised himself that he was going to do whatever he could to live up to this better version of himself that she'd built up, and damnit, this was the time to start.

He wracked his brains for a solution, for a brilliant plan of some sort…

"Daryl? Is everything alright?" Beth called over, sounding concerned for him. She probably wondered what the hell he was doing standing in the middle of the parking lot staring down at his hand.

He'd have such an easier time being able to concentrate and think of something if he were in the woods.

Then, an idea struck him.

"Give me your keys," he said, striding over to the driver's side.

Wordlessly, and all-trusting, with a little bit of a smug smile at the edges of her mouth, she handed over her keychain.

Daryl didn't know if she'd love it, or even if she'd like it… but if he'd learned anything about her after finding that piece of paper, it was that random acts of thoughtfulness were important to her. He hoped like hell that her appreciation of that would extend as far as his idea. Because it was damn sure the only thing he could think to do for her to make her birthday somewhat special...