A/N Thank you all so much! You guys are just the ginchiest! Here, please enjoy this virtual vanilla coke! Shall we see how our favorite 50's pair is doing?

Her sister didn't even bother to knock, she just waltzed right in her room. Gee Whiz she was so rude!

Maggie was going to trade school in Macon. She was learning all about being a bookkeeping assistant. Knowing something important like that, why a girl could get a real good job working at a bank or in a department store office. Anyway, she'd just gotten home on a three week semester break.

Beth hurriedly slipped the diary under her pillow.

Maggie had given her the little book for her Sweet Sixteen. It was cotton candy pink with gold lettering on the front that said, "My Diary." And it came with a fancy pink ballpoint pen that had a feather.

She'd never bothered to write in it.

But suddenly she had so much to tell that little diary, and it was all about Daryl Dixon.

"Alright, what's your tale nightingale?"

Why did her big sister have to always be such a snoop? She could be so annoying.

"You can't just barge in my room without even knocking Maggie, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh don't have a cow. I'm hep to you so don't try and fool me sister, save that for the parents. I know you were out with some boy." Maggie laughed then and kept up her teasing. "Why have you been playing back seat bingo, sweet and innocent perfect little Bethie?"

Oh no! She felt her face turn bright red. Dang, she hated how it always betrayed her. "Maggie will you just please stop bugging me all the time? I'm busy!"

And that darn Maggie was laughing. "He must be someone they wouldn't approve of. You didn't have any problem bringing that waste of space Jimmy around here.

I've got a steady eddie of my own sis, and I know they're really going to go ape when they get a load of him. So let's make a little deal. I'll be back on another school break in two months. If you're still sneakin' around with your guy, and if I'm still sneaking around with mine, I'll clue you on my guy, and you clue me on yours."

Pinkie swear.

After she was done with her writing, and she'd drawn at least a hundred little hearts around his name, she'd laid her head down on the pillow and she cried.

She couldn't see him anymore, she just couldn't. She didn't want to be lying to her folks, it was just wrong. And she couldn't bring him around. Introduce him. Daddy would run him off with a shotgun.

Then they'd lock her in the attic until she was at least 30.

He'd walked the Bike the 300 yards back down the road before hopping on and heading to his own pad.

Damn, he just couldn't stop thinking about that cute little bobby soxer.

But he couldn't see her anymore. She was pretty and sweet and he wanted to hang with her. But nah. It just wasn't right.

He was way too old for a young chick like her, and he didn't know one thing about good girls, about making dates. None of that romance novel stuff. He sure as hell had never had a regular girl.

Well yeah sure he'd been with some women, after all he was 26 years old. He knew about certain kinds of chicks. The fast and easy ones.

In one of the worst experiences of his life Merle had taken him to Atlanta when he turned 16. Made damn sure he lost his cherry. He almost barfed just thinking about it.

Then there were those times there'd be those chicks around, like Merle said, willing to let a guy have a little taste, and more.

Those kind of girls liked coming around the garage Fridays after work, drinking with the guys. They'd make a lot of crude jokes about taking Merle's little brother "for a ride."

After a six pack of beer, and a few shots of Old Fitzgerald's, it didn't seem like such a bad idea to him.

Until the next morning. Then he felt kind of used. Even though he'd gotten his, just the same as they'd gotten theirs.

He'd had to give that shit up, it had started to make him feel real low. It was anything but satisfying.

This girl Beth, she wasn't that kind of girl at all. She was nothing but sweet. That was it, yep, she was a damn cream puff is what she was.

He had no idea how a guy ought to act with a girl like her.

And he didn't feel quite right about this sneaking around deal. Sooner or later that old farmer in the dell was going to catch on and likely pepper his ass with a load of buckshot. Or maybe just kill him outright.

Justifiable Homicide.

Yeah, he couldn't see her anymore. That was that.

The next morning they were both full of that resolve.

But dammit, that didn't mean he wasn't going to watch her walk down the street on her way to work.

And that didn't mean she wasn't going to be looking at him through that big shop door.

Because well, it was just harmless looking. This was never going any further, that's it. Period. End of story.

They just couldn't do this. No way it could work. Sad, but true.

He walked in the diner for lunch and he sat on that same stool.

And then he looked at her.

And she looked at him.

And all bets were off.

"Hi Daryl, what can I get for you today?" She smiled that smile and he knew for sure he was going to do whatever the fuck he had to just to keep seeing that smile.

"Hey you, how 'bout a ham stack and a vanilla coke, please." And she swore she could almost see a smile when he said it. That resolve she'd had? It had disappeared.

When she brought his food, and before he even knew what the hell he was doing, the words came out, "Wanna go for a ride after work?"

"Oh rats, I do, but I can't tonight, I have choir practice." Her pretty little lips were pursed and she looked disappointed.

Well shit, he knew it before, but this put an exclamation point on it, she was too sweet for the likes of him. This little birdie even sang in the church choir. Great, just fucking great.

And then she crossed right over her own line, kind of shocked herself, "Well maybe we could ride around for half hour or so, and then you could take me kind of close to the church. I mean, if you wanted to, which maybe you don't, but well if you did." Why couldn't she ever just quit talking?!

"Yeah, sure I can do that." What the fuck Dixon? You were supposed to walk away from her.

He was waiting for her when she walked out the door. He'd been thinking seriously about telling her to just forget about it. But one look at that smile and he decided he was okay with her Daddy killing him. As long as he got to spend time with her first he'd die a happy man.

She'd been thinking she shouldn't go with him, that she was just being too bad. She'd be lying to her parents, lying to her friends. Living a lie.

Then she climbed on the Bike behind him, with his coat lying across her legs, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him and she knew. She'd do whatever she had to do just to spend time with him.

They didn't have much time so they didn't go far, just there near the edge of town in that little cluster of trees. No one would see the Bike, no one would see them.

Before he realized just what he was doing he'd lifted a hand up to her face. And he brushed some curls back that had come loose from her ponytail. He felt the heat rise up his neck, but the feel of that silky hair made that okay.

She smiled up at him, thrilled by his small touch and then she noticed it, on the inside of his upper arm, at first she wasn't sure, but then she just blurted it out. "Is that a tattoo?"

Her eyes were as big as saucers and she was so serious he sort of wanted to laugh. But damn, he was kind of nervous. Was she going to tell him to hit the road because he had a tattoo?

"Uh, yeah."

"Can I see it? I've never seen one up close. Like on a real person. I mean like on a person that I know." Oh be quiet Beth!

One thing he knew for sure about this sweet little cream puff, she didn't run with the same crowd he did. He pulled that t-shirt sleeve up a little further.

She reached up and touched it real gingerly, like it might burn her. But it was her touch that sent a burning through him.

"Didn't that hurt when they did that to you?" Her eyes hadn't left it. And maybe she was also admiring his bicep, just a little. Or maybe a lot.

"Well kinda, but not as much as the ones on my back." And he wished to God right then he hadn't said it.

"You have more? Oh my golly, can I see them?"

"Uh, nah better not right now. Maybe some other time."

Dang, she sure would like to see all those muscles she knew were under that shirt.

And he quickly changed the subject. "How was your day? Anyone 'sides me come in n bother ya?"

She knew she'd made him uncomfortable, and she knew who he was worrying about.

"You never bother me. No, no one came in and bothered me today. And my day was just fine, how about yours, did you have to work hard?"

"It don't seem hard cuz I like it. Right now I'm choppin' a Bike for some rich guy who wants ta look tough. Guess he don't know just havin' the Bike ain't gonna get that job done."

"I don't get it. What does that mean, chopping a Bike?"

"Means different things dependin' on what ya want. Mostly yer takin' off a lotta the parts, bumpers n stuff, reducin' the weight a the Bike so ya can go faster. Then yer modifying a lot a other stuff. Makin' it look more custom, more badass.

This rich daddy he wants it all, modified steering angle, long front end with extended forks, a hardtail frame, ape hangers, big front wheel, sissy bar. Buncha other shit too."

She couldn't recall ever having been more confused. Even in algebra. "Gee I don't even know what any of that means."

He gave a little snort, "Well there ain't no reason why ya would I s'pose. When ya got a little more time after work someday I'll show ya around the shop. You can see what I'm workin' on and what I'm talkin' bout." Man when did he get so talkative, especially with a chick?

"Oh that would be so cool, I'd love to see what it is you do in there." And it meant he planned to see her again!

"Alright." She, wanted to see what he did, where he worked? Gee, did that mean she really did give a fuck about him?

She looked down at her little watch and kind of shrieked, "Oh no I'm going to be late for practice, Mama's going to kill me!"

He hurriedly got on the bike, handed her his jacket and said, "Which church?"

"Community Bible, county road and Taft."

"Hang on tight, we're gonna haul ass."

He got her close and she ran the rest of the way. She was 10 minutes late and Mama, who was also in the choir, was a decidedly unhappy woman.

And Maggie, who'd driven Mama, was getting more and more curious about who this boy could be. Who was it that was keeping her sister from being where she was supposed to be?

She couldn't wait to write in that little diary when she got home. She just had to tell someone about his tattoo. It looked like a tiny devil that was a flying dragon, or something. She didn't really know what the heck it was supposed to be or what it meant. But it was kind of sexy. And he had more.

And she told the diary how much she wanted to see his muscles.

And she wrote his name in fancy letters, and she drew little hearts and butterflies around it, and she smiled thinking about just how dreamy he was.

Maggie had always told her, "girls need to play hard to get, you have to let the guy chase you, let him do all the work." Beth agreed it was his role to pursue her.

But still, wasn't she the one that had to sneak around? Didn't she need to tell him when she could see him?

She wrote the note. She'd decide when she saw him at lunch tomorrow, Friday, if she was going to give it to him.

He'd dropped her off, she ran, and he was riding over to the roadhouse. He planned to throw a couple cold ones back and eat a couple of pickled eggs before heading to the pad.

And damn, there she was, just hanging around there in his mind. Clouding his judgement. Shit, just what he needed. That little cream puff with her sweet innocence making him every kind of confused. Making him want her.

And shit, it was so fuckin' hard just to get to spend a little time with her.

Well that was weird right there, since when was he looking to spend time with a chick? Truth was there never had been one he had any interest in.

He'd only had experience with those other kinds of chicks where you had that quick release, followed by an even quicker "see ya 'round."

Here she comes up the street, all sweet smiles and sunshine. He was trying to be sneaky looking at her. But damn if she didn't just look right over and give a little wave. And damn if he didn't smile back at her.

Right at noon he was on "his" stool.

"Hi Daryl, what can I get you for lunch today?" And his sweet little cream puff was giving him that beautiful smile.

Wait, when did she become his cream puff?

"Hey Beth, how about sumthin' real special today? Ya got a cheeseburger back there? And a vanilla coke, please."

And then he smiled at her, a real smile, and then she knew she wanted to give him that note.

So when she set his lunch in front of him, she took the folded note from her pocket and slid it over next to his plate.

He looked up but she'd quickly moved down to the other end of the counter. Setting down waters. It appeared she was deliberately staying busy somewhere away from where he was. What the fuck?

He slid that note over and opened it there under the counter, sort of on his lap.

He'd never seen handwriting like that. It was girlie. Like her. Lots of curly-q's and swoopy looking things.

She wrote she had chores to do Saturday morning, but after that she could ride her horse and meet up with him about noon. Over near the old footbridge at the north end of the river.

She said she'd bring dessert if he'd bring burgers.

She'd signed it with a little heart and then her name, and there were X's and O's.

Under that she'd drawn a real nice picture of the spot. She'd colored it in with those color pencils. She was quite the artist. He knew that place real well, and she'd captured it.

He had planned to walk up in the mountains in the morning. Spend the night, shoot his pistol, shoot his crossbow. Screw that. He was having lunch with baby girl.

She was a nervous wreck, so afraid he'd just tell her "no." Or worse yet, not say anything at all. Just act like he never even got the note.

But when he paid his bill he gave her that crooked little half smile, and he said it just loud enough for her to hear, "Thanks, and I'll see ya for lunch tomorrow Cream puff."

A/N The more they try to deny it, the hotter that fire gets burning. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks so much for reading. I'll meet you all next week over near the old footbridge at the north end of the river. I'd appreciate your comments/reviews xo