Chapter 22 - Perfect

Standing curbside just beyond the entrance to The Underground club on Friday evening, Daryl lit a cigarette and contemplated turning around and going home. Coming along to this gig had seemed like no big deal – and even last night, when a few of them had gathered for a low-key Thanksgiving dinner at Sherry and Dwight's, both Andrea and Tahlia had insisted that yes, he should definitely join them - but now that he was actually here, it seemed kind of stupid. Why would he voluntarily take a front row seat to watch Tahlia meet some guy that, if her friends were right, would be a great match for her?

Definitely sounded stupid when he put it like that.

But, stupid or not, he was going to go inside. Because, when everything was stripped back to the most basic level, he just preferred to be where she was.

And, of course, he wanted to check out this damned guy.

Yeah, it felt shit knowing she was here to meet someone, but in all honesty, he didn't feel too worried about anything eventuating because in the months he'd known her he'd seen plenty of people flirting, hitting on her, and she'd never shown any real interest in a single one. He'd never seen anyone make her go all hazy and melty like she sometimes did right in front of him when he got all close and looked at her like that (but he couldn't think about what that might mean. Not yet). He didn't want her to date, but he wouldn't ask her not to – and that'd be a real dick move, blocking her first actual date in months. And what the hell could he say, anyway?

Hey Silver, I'm feelin' all this shit for you, but it might be just coz I really wanna have sex, so would ya mind stayin' away from other guys while I go fuck someone else and figure it out?

Made him feel like an asshole just thinking that. But that was still where his head was at – and things had only become muddier after spending that night with her because now his bed served to evoke vivid memories of her body, soft and warm; of waking up wrapped around her; of 'we could just quickly have sex'; and when he was lying there in those floating moments between sleep and wakefulness, he could almost imagine that she was there beside him, and then – more times than he'd care to admit - with her face in his head and her name on his lips and his dick in his hand he'd come hard and fast, grunting into the shadowy gloom. In the moments of sated clarity that followed, sweat-dampened and sticky-bellied, he'd gallantly decide this was enough. Keeping the fantasies in his head and keeping things just the way they were between them. Shit was near enough perfect as it was – why risk unbalancing that?

Then, inevitably, his thoughts would wander and disappear down a rabbit hole of imaginings - like lying with her in the after, not a scrap of clothing between them, slowly tracing every inch of her body with his fingertips, mapping out every mark; like falling asleep skin to skin, a tangle of limbs and contentment; like dark, stormy mornings and murmured promises of just five more minutes in bed; like a quick coffee shared before venturing out to face the day; like Fridays at Fox's that looked the same but different because every time they touched it would be in togetherness; like plus ones and plans for two and a future that stretched before them all endless and bright. And then despairingly, he'd be forced to acknowledge that jerking off every now and then would never be enough because his real fantasies weren't about sex, but all the parts around sex, the mundane, everyday things that came with a relationship, the things he wanted to have, to do, with her, and then he'd come crashing back to the same fucking problem that had him stuck in the first place – he'd never done anything like this with anyone, never had any desire to, so what if his walls came up like they always had? What if he ended up shutting her out and burning it all to the fucking ground?

Still mired in the uncertainty of all the what ifs, he heaved a sigh and ground his cigarette out with his sneaker and resigned himself to an evening that would no doubt be pretty lousy. Making his way down the stone stairs, the music and voices from within grew louder with every step, thankfully drowning out the noise in his head. A grungy basement club on the South side, The Underground had been around forever and was known for showcasing an eclectic range of performers - up-and-coming musicians to stand-up comedians and everything in between – a rite of passage for fledging artists in the city. Pushing through the heavy door, Daryl paused for a moment, sweeping his gaze around the dimly lit space, all concrete floors, exposed beams and mismatched furniture, a vague heaviness in the air from years of bodies passing through. It was busy, as was the norm for a Friday night - the huddle of cracked leather sofas and armchairs on the far side of the club were all full; most of the scratched up wooden tables in front of the stage were occupied; and there was a decent press of people at the bar. There was only a small area cleared for a dancefloor tonight, which told Daryl that the vibe of the acts was going to be very mellow – although that was already obvious from the dulcet tones of the crooning singer and her two guitarists that were currently on stage.

He sensed Tahlia before he laid eyes on her (that happened more frequently than he'd care to dissect) and maybe she sensed him too, because as he was weaving his way around the tables, she suddenly turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes locking straight onto his, a happy smile immediately lighting up her face. She was on her feet in a second, her arms around him in the next, greeting him with such warmth that he had to stop himself from grunting 'mine' and carrying her straight out of the club. But then she was ushering him to the table, pulling a spare seat in next to hers and pointing to the strangers seated there in introduction: some big guy named Joey; a serious-looking blonde girl, Laura; another two people whose names went in one ear and out the other. And then there were the rest: a friendly face in Andrea who blew him a kiss; a less friendly face in Michonne who fixed him with a measured look and a flat 'hello'; and, maybe to make up for that, an overly-enthusiastic handshake and a huge grin from Rick. No Merle this evening – he was on a job driving a truck down the line – and for that, Daryl was secretly pleased because he really didn't feel like listening to his brother mouthing-off tonight.

Taking a seat, he shifted a little closer to Tahlia and hoped that he wouldn't be expected to make small talk with anyone.

"So!" Rick said cheerily, leaning forward on the table. "You're a mechanic, right?"

Daryl puffed out a quiet breath, his hope disappearing right along with it. "Uh-huh."

"What uh… what kind of cars do you work on?"

"All kinds." replied Daryl flatly. "Get a lot of classics through. Kinda known for 'em."

"That right?" nodded Rick. "My grandpa used to have a '57 Ford Thunderbird. Always kinda fancied myself having something like that one day."

"Nice." stated Daryl, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

Rubbing a hand over his chin while clearly trying to think of something else to say, Rick then raised his brows. "Hey, so, maybe you can give me some advice? Noticed lately that when I get up to 55, 60, my car feels like it's vibrating a little? Didn't used to do that. What do you reckon that might be?"

Never having been one to conform to social expectations of conversation and getting-to-know-yous, Daryl conceded that it was nice of Rick to make an effort, so pasted his best attempt at an earnest expression on his face. "Probably start by gettin' your wheel alignment checked."

"Oh, right." said Rick thoughtfully. "Good idea. I don't have a local mechanic. Maybe I could bring it down to your work? Although," he gave Daryl an apologetic look, "I drive a Camry."

"Mm." nodded Daryl. "Figures."

Next to him, Tahlia snorted and elbowed him for that, and he ducked his head to hide a smile, then glanced back up at Rick and told him kindly, "Bring it in. I'll take a look at it. Service it for ya, too."

"Really?!" Rick looked disproportionately pleased at that and started to try and arrange a time, but Daryl raised a hand and assured him to just bring it in whenever, he'd make time.

Then Michonne clapped a hand on Rick's shoulder and told him to come and help her carry the next round.

"That was nice." smirked Tahlia as she watched her friends head for the bar. "You and Rick bonding over cars."

"Bonding?" chuckled Daryl, nudging her. "Think that guy knows less 'bout cars than you do."

"Don't tell him that." grinned Tahlia. "He'll be devastated that he didn't impress you. So… about work – is everything ok? I heard you and Dwight talking a little last night."

Daryl shot her a sideways glance. "You did, huh? Well," he picked at his thumbnail for a moment, "Ain't much to tell yet, just Axel's started makin' noises 'bout gettin' out of the shop earlier than he originally planned to. He's got like, arthritis or somethin' in his hands, and it's getting' worse. Makin' it hard for him to do some of the jobs and all that. His old lady's puttin' the pressure on him to sell up now, get out of the business so they can retire early and go on some big trip overseas."

"Oh." Tahlia frowned. "So, what will that mean for you?"

"Yeah. That's the thing." Daryl ran a hand through his hair. "Dunno. Wants to talk to me properly next week, but guessin' it means I gotta buy him out and take over or someone else will."

Daryl could practically see Tahlia's mind whir into overdrive as she processed this.

"Right." she mused. "Right. It's doable. Absolutely doable."

"Ain't, Tahly. Can't afford to take out a bigger loan to buy the whole business. And even if I could, I ain't gonna be able to run it on my own, not yet. Don't know enough."

"Firstly, you do so know enough! You've been involved in the running of that place for nearly two years, you know all the ins and outs. You just need to believe in yourself, that's all, and that'll come when you're in charge of making the decisions. And secondly, yes you can afford a bigger loan. They were willing to give you double what you needed last time. And you might not even need to buy the place outright - Axel may be willing to keep some of his capital in for a while, maybe he's got other ideas of how to make this work. He's not just your boss, he's a mentor to you. He wants to see you succeed, he won't just bow out and leave you in the lurch."

Daryl smiled fondly, feeling better about the situation already. "You're too goddamned positive."

Tilting her chin up confidently, Tahlia crossed her arms. "Because I know this can work. This is exactly what we mapped out when we went through this before, only it's happening sooner – so we just need to tweak a few things. We'll start by seeing where Axel's head is at, then go from there. It's going to be just fine, I know that for sure."

"Oh, you know it, do ya?" mocked Daryl with a grin. "You some kinda fortune teller now?"

"Why yes, actually!" professed Tahlia. "Yes, I am. Give me your hand." Taking Daryl's hand in hers, Tahlia held it open against her chest as she made a show of inspecting his palm. "Hmm. Yes, yes. Just as I suspected. See? Right here." She traced her a line from his index finger to wrist. "It clearly says you're going to live a long and successful life as the sole owner of Axel's garage."

"That what it says, huh?"

"Yes." stated Tahlia assuredly, then drew a line below his thumb with hers. "You're going to be a savvy manager of the business and the best boss your team has ever known. Ooh, and you're going to pay off the loan within three years and be rolling in money."

Scoffing at that, Daryl was about to tell her to shut up when she gasped dramatically.

"Oh! Now that's interesting!" She craned further over his hand, and although Daryl knew it was all shit, he couldn't help but do the same, amused by her antics. Wide-eyed and passably serious, she looked up at him. "It also says that every morning you're going to bring me a triple shot espresso with a splash of soy milk until the end of my days."

"Huh." remarked Daryl, sucking in his cheeks to contain his smile. "My lines mention you?"

Gazing at him with absolute solemnity, Tahlia nodded. "Yeah. And coffee. Weird, right?"

"Real weird." he agreed drily. "And specific. You sure it says soy milk?"

"Yep." confirmed Tahlia, tapping a spot just below his pinky. "Just a splash. Says it right there."

With a little chuckle, Daryl shook his head. "Think you might be readin' it wrong coz I'm pretty sure that's the laundry line, and what that actually says is that you're gonna do all my laundry for me until the end of your days."

"Hmm…" Tahlia lifted his hand closer to her face and made a show of scrutinizing it. "Nope, that's definitely the line for soy milk."

With a snort, Daryl grabbed hold of her hand and secured her arm against his body with his own. "Lemme see yours." Pressing her fingers back to spread her palm, Daryl slid his thumb down the center of her palm. "Look. Yours says you're gonna get murdered in your sleep for bein' a pain in the ass."

Laughing, Tahlia tried to pull away, but he held her firm. "Yep. Says here, clear as day, you got 50 axe-murderers comin' right for ya. Better not close your eyes 'gain, girl!"

Back from the bar with beer for everyone, Michonne watched them, her brow furrowed, as they giggled and grabbed at one another, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone else was around, then she looked to Andrea and opened a hand in question. Andrea just shrugged. She was so used to Daryl and Tahlia's immersion in one another when they were together - this was just normal behavior for them.

Observing for a few moments longer, Michonne conceded that this was certainly a very different side to the Daryl that she had experienced – one that seemed to align with Tahlia's effusive praise and positive description of him - and she grudgingly decided that given Daryl had become a main character in Tahlia's life, she owed it to her friend to get to know him, or at the very least, give him the benefit of the doubt that he was a decent guy.

But tonight, Tahlia was supposed to be here for Alden, and Michonne thought it prudent to remind her of that.

"Hey, Tahly!" she called across the table and gestured to the stage where Alden and his bandmates were setting up. "Band's coming on!"

Tahlia and Daryl both looked up at the same time, and smiling, Tahlia nodded and switched her attention to the front of the room. And whether it was on purpose or not, it wasn't lost on Michonne that although Daryl followed suit, he kept hold of Tahlia's hand on his lap right up until Alden took to the mic, guitar in hand, to address the audience.

"Thanks for coming along tonight." Alden greeted the crowd warmly, his soft drawl caramel smooth. "Got a few new songs to try out. Hope you enjoy." He glanced back at his bandmates, then out at the audience again, a wry grin on his face. "We're The Saviors."

At that, Laura turned around to face the others at the table. "It's meant to be funny." she explained, mostly to Tahlia. "See the guy on bass? The one with the long hair? His nickname's Jesus, so they thought they'd call themselves The…" She waved a hand and laughed. "You get it. And that's Luke on the keys and Arat on drums."

Daryl didn't see the humor in that, but kept that to himself, folding his arms as the band started to play. The sound of bluesy soft rock filled the venue and it quickly became clear that they were talented musician and a well-oiled group, and Alden was (to Daryl's irritation because he himself couldn't hold a tune) a really fucking good singer.

By way of introduction before each song, Alden would relate a little anecdote about its inspiration and just from his delivery of those small snatches of words, it was easy to tell that he was a decent guy.

Halfway through the set, Daryl nudged Tahlia. "Gonna get a round."

"Ok." she nodded. "I'll come with you."

Leaning back against the bar as Daryl ordered, Tahlia glanced at Daryl then over towards the band.

"So. What do you think?"

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't my kinda music, but I guess they're alright."

"And what about the singer?" pressed Tahlia coyly.

Crossing his arms and shifting so he was shoulder to shoulder with her, Daryl shot a skeptical look at Alden. "He even old enough to be in here?"

"He's 27!" exclaimed Tahlia through her mirth.

"Or is that just what his fake ID says?"

She swatted him playfully. "Yeah, ok, maybe he does look like he's taken a tumble into the fountain of youth. Seriously, though. He seems nice, right?"

"Dunno. Just seems to sing all the time."

Laughing, Tahlia swiped at him again. "Come on, you know what I mean."

Turning around to lean his elbows on the bar, Daryl shook his head. "You don't want my opinion on this kinda shit."

"Of course I do." insisted Tahlia. "Your opinion matters the most to me."

"Ain't gonna help you none."

"Why not?"

Daryl nodded in appreciation to the bartender as she pushed a tray of beers his way, then slid his thumb through the condensation on the side of one glass. "'Cause Silver," he replied gruffly before throwing a frown at Tahlia. "I ain't gonna think no guy's good enough for you."

Equal parts touched by the sentiment and amused that any admission of emotion from him was always delivered so staunchly, she huffed out a little laugh. "Guess I'd better prepare myself to be alone for the rest of my life!"

Dropping his gaze to his hands, Daryl shook his head again. "You ain't gonna be alone."

And if there were more he had to say on that, she'd never know because just then, a loud cry of Daryl's name carried across the music, and he turned around just as a petite woman in ripped denim shorts, fishnets and a Nirvana t-shirt came bounding over and launched herself straight at him, her Doc Martens leaving the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace.

"Daryl fucking Dixon!" she exclaimed when her feet were back on the floor, then she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards her, planting a huge kiss on his lips, causing Tahlia's brows to shoot up at the forward display, and higher still at the fact it had raised a half-smile on Daryl's face.

"God, I've missed you!" the woman declared. "It's been forever! You promised you would call!"

Flushing a little, Daryl wrinkled his nose apologetically, but the woman let out a hearty laugh.

"Don't sweat it, I'm messin' with you! Course I knew you wouldn't call. But you still owe me a fishing trip. Don't think I've forgotten that. Fucking hell!" she stated in admiration as she ran a hand through her dark pixie cut and appraised him. "You just get sexier and sexier, don't you? It'll be a lucky woman who manages to make an honest man outta you." Then she sent an inquisitive glance and impish grin at Tahlia. "Unless… are you the lucky one? Hi! I'm Nat, by the way."

Nat was stunning with her cinder-black eyes and sleeve tattoos and her bright, bubbly energy and Tahlia felt utterly vanilla in comparison, but took the proffered hand and introduced herself warmly before wryly saying, "Nope, I'm not lucky at all." Immediately regretting her choice of words.

"That singer up there is, though. Tahly's on a first date with him." added Daryl in soft clarification.

"No, we're not really-" Tahlia started in protest, but Nat's face lit up as she whirled around to look at Alden, then back at Tahlia.

"Ooh, nice. He's gorgeous! You two will make the most beautiful angelic babies!"

That comment sent an icy spike through Daryl's gut as a reel in fast forward of Tahlia falling in love and getting married and starting a family and living happily ever after with Alden suddenly whirred in his head. He had been so firm in his surety that nothing lasting would come of this pairing that until now, he hadn't let himself consider the possibility that something might, and it made his head spin. Quickly pushing those thoughts aside before they consumed him, he turned his attention back to Nat, who was scanning the room.

"Where's Merle?" she asked. "Is he here, too?"

"Nah," replied Daryl. "He's away on a job tonight."

"Well," said Nat fondly, "Make sure you tell that asshole I say hi. Anyway, I'm busting for a wee, but promise me you'll come and have a drink with me for old times' sake. We're over there on the sofas in the far corner. Rosita and Euge are here too, they'd love to see you. Yeah?"

"Yeah, sure." nodded Daryl, smiling down at her. "I'll come by later."

As Nat was turning away, Andrea was just making her way to the bar and the two smiled at one another as they passed.

"Who was that?" Andrea asked mildly as she stopped next to Daryl.

"Uh…" Daryl glanced at Tahlia, then Andrea, then ducked his head and gave an evasive shrug. "Just… just an old friend."

"Well." remarked Tahlia a little wistfully as she watched Nat bounce all the way to the restroom door. "She seems like a firecracker."

"She sure is."

"You can…" Tahlia gestured vaguely in the direction of the sofas despite the knot of jealous discomfort in her belly. "Don't feel like you have to stick around with us."

"Yeah." agreed Andrea with a teasing grin. "She's cute. Don't let us cramp your style."

At that, Daryl's brow furrowed and he quickly turned to Tahlia. "I ain't…" Then he glanced back at Andrea and shook his head with a sigh. "Never mind."

Chuckling at his obvious discomfort, Andrea gestured at the drinks. "Come on, let's go back to the table. Hey, Tahls, I forgot to tell you, but Sasha sent me a couple of tickets for the matinee of Wicked on Sunday. Are you keen?"

"Ooh, yeah!" enthused Tahlia as they headed across the floor, grateful for the change of subject. "I've been dying to see it."

Swinging around, Andrea waggled her brows at Daryl. "I could probably get another ticket for you as well if you like, Dixon?"

"A ticket to what?"

"Wicked. It's a musical."

Daryl scoffed loudly. "No fuckin' way. Think I've had 'bout enough music for one weekend already."

And Alden belted another chorus into the microphone.

Several songs later, The Saviors finished their set, and after packing up their gear, they made their way to the table and squashed in between the others, modestly waving away all the effusive praise that came their way.

Laura quickly did the introductions, and Daryl couldn't help but bristle at Alden's lingering look and soft smile for Tahlia.

"Nice vocals on Black Dream." said Laura, elbowing Jesus. "I like how you guys mixed that up." Then she glanced around the others. "They practice in our garage. I know all the songs inside out. I'm their biggest groupie."

"Our only groupie." countered Jesus drily.

"I messed up the solo." lamented Luke. "That was terrible."

"Couldn't even tell." said Arat, gratefully accepting a beer then smirking over at Alden. "Anyway, remember the gig we played at Malone's? Nothing beats Alden's solo that night."

"Oh man." Alden groaned good-naturedly as he dropped his face into his hands. "Don't remind me."

Jesus grinned. "Don't worry, buddy. I promise I'll just tell them the short version."

For a while the band shared funny anecdotes of terrible songs and terrible gigs and terrible audiences and they were all so witty and self-deprecating that Daryl hated them a little bit. Wished they would be more unlikeable.

And Alden didn't do himself any favors when he said, "Ok, ok. Enough about us. You guys talk now. Any of you play an instrument?"

"Tahly plays piano." Michonne immediately declared.

"Used to." Tahlia quickly clarified with a pointed look at Michonne. "I stopped the formal stuff at fifteen. Haven't played in ages. How about you?"

Alden shrugged. "I can play a scale or two."

"He's being modest." Luke chipped in. "He's a Grade 8 classical piano maestro!"

Daryl rolled his eyes. Of course he was. Whatever that meant.

"Really?" Tahlia looked impressed. "I only made it to Grade 5."

"Grades don't mean that much." replied Alden in that liquid drawl. "Who's your favorite composer?"

Fuckin' stupid question. Thought Daryl, then frowned at Tahlia when she answered with a glowy smile like it wasn't a stupid question at all.

"Oh, hands down Chopin."

Alden smiled right back. "Me too."

For a moment, Daryl wondered if he was imagining this shit, but no, Tahlia and Alden were still all focused on one another, engaged in a conversation that Daryl barely understood. He didn't know anything about piano grades or classical music, and he sure as shit didn't have a favorite composer. Didn't even know any besides Beethoven, and that was mainly because of that movie with that slobbery St Bernard. Realized then that although he and Tahlia were close, they didn't have that much in common. Wondered how close Tahlia might end up with someone that she did have a lot in common with.

Felt a little tight in the chest at that.

Felt like this was a real good time for a smoke.

After a long, slow cigarette and a purposeful effort to not think about anything at all, Daryl finally made his way back inside only to see Tahlia and Alden now sitting side by side all easy smiles and earnest conversation and the icy pit in his belly deepened.

This was so much harder than he'd expected it to be.

When she'd first told him about Alden, Daryl had told her that he hoped it would work out, and he'd sort of meant it because he just wanted to see her happy. And although that last bit was still true, the rest wasn't, and he realized that it would be a special kind of torture, watching her with someone else. But because he was adept at sweeping his feelings – especially the unfamiliar, strong ones – into a corner and packing them down and covering them up and turning away from them and just getting the fuck on with it, so he would do with this. He gritted his teeth and resolved to be exactly what he was supposed to be to her – a good, supportive friend who had her best interests at heart. And a friend who would give Alden a serious ass-kicking if he put a single fucking toe wrong.

Rubbing a hand heavily over his face, Daryl felt like it was probably a good time to go home. But because he was a sucker for punishment, he stayed.

Weaving through the crowd, he decided last minute that it wouldn't be doing him or Tahlia any favors if he went and sat back down at her table, so veered off and slunk over to the far side of the club to have a drink with Nat, as promised. And when Nat caught sight of him and jumped up and threw her arms around him again, he felt a little better, because if anyone here could keep his mind off Tahlia, it would be her.

"Wish I could stay longer, but they want all our gear out of the back room by 11:30, so we'd better go start packing it into the van." Alden told Tahlia apologetically. "But I really liked hanging out with you. Do you… do you think you might wanna do it again sometime? Like, minus the loud music and all of our friends staring at us?"

Tahlia laughed and in doing so, accidentally glanced over to where Daryl had been sitting with that other group for the past hour, there on a sofa with Nat perched on the arm next to him, leaning on his shoulder, practically in his lap.

That wiped the smile off her face. But she pulled it back up and looked at Alden and said yeah, yeah I do, because the alternative was to remain stuck.

After that, she and Andrea decided to call it a night and Daryl must've noticed them saying their goodbyes, because he quietly appeared at their side.

"You leavin'?"

"Yeah." replied Tahlia with an unintentional yawn. "Going to head home now."

"'Kay." he nodded. "Think I'll make tracks, too."

"Did you park in the lot across the street as well? We can wait for you if you want to walk out with us?"

"Oh, uh, naw. I'm gonna…" Daryl shifted awkwardly and bit his lip as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the group he'd been sitting with where Nat had her head thrown back in laughter at something one of the guys had said.

"Oh! Of course. Your friends." said Tahlia, managing a smile as she gave Daryl a brief hug, wondering why things suddenly felt slightly off-kilter between them. "Well, have a good weekend."

He mumbled something in return then ducked his head and turned tail as Andrea linked an arm through Tahlia's.

"Hey, can we just go talk to Michy again real quick? I meant to ask her if she wants to come to Wicked."

"You'd better ask Rick, too. You know how he loves a good musical."

Ten minutes later, they were strapping themselves into Tahlia's car.

"I wonder how Merle's getting on." mused Andrea, unashamedly pining over her boyfriend even though she'd seen him that morning.

"I'm sure he's bored as hell driving along those endless highways." replied Tahlia, pulling out of the parking space.

Andrea laughed. "You're right. He'll probably be keeping himself awake with death metal and Milk Duds. Oh hey, look!" She opened her window and pointed out at two figures entering the parking lot.

Now illuminated by the headlights, Tahlia could see that it was Daryl and Nat, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders, hers tight around his waist.

"Be good, Daryl!" Andrea called teasingly as they slowly drove past, and Daryl wrinkled his nose and flipped her off before opening the passenger door of his truck for Nat.

"Oh." Andrea looked searchingly at Tahlia as she pulled out onto the main road. "You ok with that?"

"Yes!" said Tahlia brightly, because she had to be. She'd been encouraging him to date, after all. "Of course. Good for him."

Andrea wasn't completely convinced by Tahlia's assurance and gave her a brief commiserative squeeze on the shoulder.

"So, Alden." grinned Andrea, changing the subject. "He's sweet. You two were having some big chats."

"Yeah." Tahlia couldn't help but smile at that, because he was sweet and attentive and open and uncomplicated and that was probably just what she needed right now. "He's really lovely. So easy to talk to."

"Think Michy might've been right this time." remarked Andrea, settling back into her seat. "Maybe he is perfect for you."

Tahlia expelled a long breath. "Maybe he is."

Ok - I know it seems like things aren't getting anywhere (or they're going backwards, even!), but I promise we're moving forward, even if it doesn't look like it from this chapter.

I'm going to try and get the next one out much quicker.