The Accidental Christmas Chapter 3, a walking dead fanfic

A/N Thank you all so much. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. Let's find out how Beth's Christmas is going, and if there are any New Year's Eve plans.

Her eyes drift shut as she leans back in the big leather recliner. She knows this is his chair, it has his feel, it has his scent. It's so comfortable and cozy she could live in it, but right now she's curious about something. She'd like to see his house.

She doesn't intend to snoop or get into his things, she would never do anything like that. She just wants to see his home and how he lives. She's curious to know everything about him. Okay, she'll admit it to herself, she's completely fascinated by Daryl Dixon. It's so many things about him. His sheer strength, and his very kind and gentle nature when he's caring for her. And now that she knows the man Daryl is, she even kind of likes his gruffness and disheveled appearance. They're another part of him.

What she will never forget, and what she will always be amazed by, is that in the middle of the night this man went to the trouble of getting the Christmas decorations from the bar and bringing them here, and that he did all of that for her. So she could have some Christmas. She'd kind of like to think he did it because he "likes" her a little, but she's certain that's not really the reason. He probably did it just to keep her from more crying about no Christmas. She's seen how uncomfortable he is when she's boohooing.

The poor man has had to put up with a lot from her.

Oh, ouch, now that she has to get up on her own two feet, by herself, she appreciates that he's been carrying her practically everywhere she goes. Her knees are so sore, and not just from the cuts and the bruises, shoot, even her bones hurt. It's painful to bend them enough to walk, but she probably needs to do that. Heck, it feels like they could stiffen up forever.

Beth's steps are slow and tentative as she reaches for furnishings and the walls just to steady herself. She's seen all of the front room from the brown leather recliner, and in addition to the recliner there's the wing chair Daryl first carried her to last night. It's covered in a dark green plaid fabric and sits in the corner near the cozy woodstove. She's relieved to see it doesn't look like she damaged it with all the blood and dirt that was on her.

The chair where she's been sitting, his chair, sits next to an oversized and overstuffed brown leather couch that appears to be super comfortable, and there's another recliner on the other side of the couch. There are end tables between the chairs and couch, and right now she has a glass of water on hers. He's always telling her she has to drink water. She's doing the best she can.

There's a huge coffee table in front of the couch, and the couch and recliners all face a dark oak entertainment center. Besides all the festive Christmas decorations, the entertainment center houses a big flatscreen TV, a stereo system, and there are shelves that have books and pictures. It's the pictures she's been wanting to see more closely. She walks nearer and smiles as she checks them out. There's one of Daryl behind the bar with a banner that says, "opening day." There's also a picture of Daryl and his brother, each standing next to a big, intimidating motorcycle.

A third picture is an old black and white of two young boys in tattered and ill-fitting clothes standing with a slim woman in a worn housedress. Beth is sure the rough and tumble boys in the picture are Daryl and Merle, and the woman has to be their Mama. Beth has seen the scars and she's sure there's a big story with Daryl's family. She also knows she won't ever hear it. Once she's home, she'll never see Daryl again. The thought causes her to tear up and she scolds herself. Quit it, I mean seriously. Beth? You are so not the kind of woman a man like Daryl has any interest in.

She sniffles a couple of times on her way to the kitchen, she's been so curious to see it. From her chair all she could see is the tall breakfast bar and stools that separate the front room from the kitchen. She smiles, the kitchen is good-sized, simple and so tidy. It's style is straight from the 1970's with a u-shape layout, light oak cabinets, tile countertops, and oh my gosh, he's the first person she's ever known who actually has black appliances. He has a big pot rack hanging near the range and she smiles to think of him standing in front of the stove cooking a big pot of something delicious. Although the kitchen is obviously old, gosh, everything looks almost new.

The boxes of prepared food Merle brought are sitting atop a large oak table that's surrounded by six chairs. She walks over to turn the oven on so she can place the food in it to stay warm, then stops herself. Beth, that's overstepping. This is not your home; they have their own way of doing things. She backs away.

From the kitchen she walks gingerly down the hallway, keeping her palm on the wall to steady herself as she does. There's a coat closet on the left and a room on her right. She doesn't go in the room, she just peeks in from the doorway. She can tell by the closet it's intended to be used as a bedroom, but Daryl's using it as an office. There's an oak desk with a laptop on it, and a printer on a stand next to it. There's an easy chair with a side table, a tall four drawer file cabinet and a huge Smith and Wesson gun safe. She's not surprised, he probably does a lot of his business in cash, and he does seem like a man who would own a gun or two. It's a good idea to keep both money and guns secured in something like that.

There's a mount of a large buck deer hanging on the wall, and several framed photos of Daryl with a heavy-looking cross bow standing proudly next to a deer, an elk and even a bear. There are also a couple of photos of him on a motorcycle, and in one of those he's flipping the bird. Beth is not the least bit surprised.

There's a doorway across from the den, and the door is wide open. It looks into what is a pretty standard hall bathroom. She smiles to herself, oak was the popular look in the 70's, okay everything. There's a single sink oak vanity with a large oak medicine cabinet above it, a tub and shower combination, and the toilet. Simple, no frills.

The next room is on the right and she peeks in that doorway. The spare room. That's where he slept last night, but you wouldn't guess anyone ever had. The man makes his bed. There's a side table next to the bed and a tall dresser on the far wall, that's it. Very plain, but also very nice.

She passes another double door closet that she's sure is for linens, and there's another door across from the closet. She glances in. The laundry room. A washer, dryer and a table for folding with a laundry basket on it. The shelf above the washer has detergent, bleach and fabric softener, as well as a few cleaning supplies. In the corner there's a vacuum, mop and bucket, broom and dustpan. That's it. No extra stuff laying around. No clutter. She smiles, he said he's clean, she's sure he is, and a tidy minimalist too.

Finally she walks in his room. She's familiar with it. She slept in his big king-sized bed last night, and she smiles at the sight of the small pitcher of water and glass he left for her on the night table next to it. There's a big wing chair in the corner, a double dresser, and she'd bet those double louvered doors lead to a walk in closet, but she won't snoop. That's everything. There's no décor of any kind in the room, just a leather vanity tray on the dresser where she's sure he keeps his keys and wallet at the end of the day.

He's obviously not a man for clutter or useless nic nacs.

She's familiar with his bathroom. It's spacious and she loves the big claw foot tub and large walk-in shower. They couldn't possibly be original to this house, they're from different eras, like he took out what was there and put in the things he likes. Yes, that's it. He must have done a little remodel. That's another story she'd like to hear, but probably never will. For now, it's time to quit snooping and get back to her chair before the brothers return.

Never would she have believed a short walk around a house would exhaust her, but as soon as she's back in his chair and pulling the blanket over herself, she's sound asleep again.

"A'ight little brother, spill. What the fuck, n just how the fuck did ya end up with Little Miss Sweeter than Apple Pie sittin' in your chair?"

Daryl's shaking his head, "Fuck man, it just fuckin' happened outta the blue," and he proceeds to tell Merle about the knock on the roadhouse door, and the story, just like she told it to him. "So here I am, I'm head nurse to some chick who's all fuckin' banged up, and who cringes every time I say 'fuck'. Don't even get me started on the tears, fuck me. I seen more tears in the past 12 hours than I seen in my whole life. I mean, I didn't blame her when she cried about how bad it hurt, I get that. Shit, but then she cried about Christmas. I couldn't take it anymore, so the minute she fell asleep for the night I went n got all them decorations hopin' maybe that would cheer her up. Rosita's gonna wonder what the fuck happened to her shit when she comes inta work Tuesday mornin'."

Merle started chuckling halfway through the story, and now he's shaking his head, "I never thought I'd see the day brother, you're all fascinated with this little gal, ain't ya?"

"Fuck no. You're so fulla shit Merle. I'm just tryin' ta get her well enough so she can go home and I can get my fuckin' place back ta myself."

Merle's smile is big and broad, and his eyes are twinkling, "Yeah, ya keep tellin' yourself that son. Meantime, you're carryin' her around like she's your new bride, runnin' out in the middle a the night ta get her Christmas things so she can be happy, ya let her sleep in your bed without you in it, shit, you don't even get a fuckin' cuddle outta the deal, n then ya get me ta run errands for her an help ya get her car goin'," Now he's belly laughing, "If that ain't fuckin' love what the fuck is?"

"Fuck you Merle."

"Yeah, that'd be great, I could use some good lovin'."

Daryl's head is throbbing, his brain is in overdrive. Dammit, man he wishes Merle was wrong, but fuck, he's pretty sure his brother's right. There's just something about that sweet little blonde chick that gets him going, but for him to even think about getting with her is ridiculous. Shit, who could ever imagine her wanting to have anything to do with him or anyone like him. Besides, what if they did get together? It might be kinda good for a while, but it wouldn't last. He could never fit in her world, and she damn sure won't fit in his.

All he's got to do is get her well enough, and make sure her car runs okay, then he can take her home. Once she's out of his place that'll be the end of all of it. There will be no reason for them to ever see each other again and he can just forget all this bullshit.

The sound of a vehicle approaching the house has Beth stirring, and just as her head clears enough to think, "oh good, they're home," the front door swings open and Daryl's brother walks in, all smiles, "All that was wrong was you were good n stuck little lady. Excellent job of diggin' them tires deep into the dirt. Me n little brother busted it outta the ditch for ya and it's right outside." He holds up a hand with the plastic container and adds, "I paid myself with a couple a these sugar cookies I found on the passenger seat, damn, that's good stuff. Did you n your little gal friend make these?"

My gosh he's high energy, "Yes, I'm glad you like them and thank you so much. I was hoping I didn't ruin my car."

"Ya didn't even come close."

In the meantime Daryl's gone to the kitchen, turned the oven on and he's sliding their dinner in to warm. When he walks back in the living room he tells her, "We ain't real fancy. We usually just eat right here in the livin' room while we watch the game."

She smiles at him, "That sounds perfect. I'm nice and comfortable right where I am." Then she thinks, oh my gawd, how rude. Does she expect him to just wait on her, "Let me get up and help."

The brothers bark, "No, we got this," at the same time. Then Merle smiles, "We like waiting on pretty ladies."

Beth self-consciously touches her cheek and half whispers, "Not so pretty."

"Whaddya talkin' about? That lil scratch? Shit, that's gonna heal up just fine. You'll see. Besides, me n little brother, we got scars up the ying yang and we're still as pretty as could be, ain't we?""

This big loud man, who looks even rougher than Daryl, makes her giggle and that feels good for a change. Beth's not sure she believes him when he says her scar will heal, but the way he says it with such confidence makes her think maybe he missed his calling. He should have been a salesman.

The brothers dish up the plates in the kitchen, and Daryl brings her hers. Oh my goodness, she couldn't eat this much food in a million years, but she doesn't say that. She minds her manners, smiles and says, "Thank you so much, it looks delicious."

Daryl nods, "Pretty good stuff n no one here had ta cook it." He sets his plate on the big coffee table and reaches for the remote, then turns to her and asks, "Shit, you're in the middle of a movie. Ya don't mind if we change it ta football do ya?"

She giggles, "Of course not, my gosh, this is your home, and besides, these movies all end the same. Maybe that's what's so appealing about them," and adds, "anyway, I love football. My brother played in high school, me and Daddy went to all his games and every year, we watch the super bowl."

Merle looks over at her with a roll in one hand and his plate in the other and says, "Ain't you the sweetest."

Beth is happy to be spending the holiday with these men. It's much better than being home alone. Their language is atrocious, and they yell at the TV like the players can hear them, they cuss the couches and call the referees terrible names, but they also include her in their theories and ask her opinion, and they both seem to think they need to take care of her, "Do ya need sumthin' ta drink? Need more food? Here, lemme help ya up." Gosh, she feels like the Queen Bee of the locker room.

She's surprised the food is as good as it is, oh sure, it's not like Mama makes, it's not like Beth makes, but it's still delicious and she's happy to be sharing a meal with two people who have made her feel so welcome. When the pie is served she casually remarks, "I should make you a pie sometime."

Daryl looks at her stunned, "Ya know how ta make a pie?"

She shrugs and smiles, "Well yes, of course I do."

"No shit, I ain't ever had a real homemade pie."

"Oh my goodness, really? Well what's you're favorite kind?"

"Apple."

"I've made lots of those. I'd be happy to make you one, it's the least I can do."

Merle smiles, "Oh yeah, well I like them pecan pies."

She smiles, "I'd love to make you a pecan pie Merle." She notices Daryl frowning at his brother and for a second she lets herself think he might be a little jealous.

She gets a call from Amy who tells her she'll be able to come to Beth's apartment tomorrow in the late morning, "I can stay for a couple of days until you're a little better. I'll be your nurse! It's going to be fun to have so much time together."

It will be fun, but Beth finds herself wishing she never had to leave, she'd like to stay right where she is for a lot longer. She catches herself, shame on you Beth, how can you be so ungrateful. Amy truly is the best friend ever.

She tells the men and Merle says, "Daryl, you could drive her home in her car n I'll follow ya in the tow truck, then drop ya off here on my way back ta Peterson."

Daryl finds he doesn't care much for that idea at all, he was thinking she'd be here several more days, and surprisingly, he liked the idea of having her around. What he says is, "Yeah, that'll work." Fuck him.

It's only about an hour after Daryl gets her home that Amy arrives. Beth's so happy to see her friend, and she really does need the help, but she can't stop thinking about Daryl and how much she wishes he was there with her. Amy picks up on Beth's sadness and she's concerned, "Beth, did something bad happen to you when you were with those men?"

"Oh my gosh no Amy, not at all. They were both so wonderful to me, and perfect gentlemen," and she proceeds to tell Amy everything, start to finish. She doesn't hold back on admitting her feelings either, after all, Amy's her best friend, "I know it's ridiculous, but I just can't help it Amy, I have feelings for Daryl. Seriously though, can you even in your wildest dreams imagine it, me with a biker? And not just that, a biker who owns a bar."

"Sure I can, why not? You said yourself, he's a kind man, you're a good and kind person too, what more do you need to make a perfect pair? Gosh, you don't have to have all the same hobbies and interests you know. Besides, what he is Beth, is a business owner. What's wrong with that? There's no reason you have to be with one of those accountants at work, or find a farmer like your Daddy. Besides, you've never even been on a motorcycle, how do you know you wouldn't love it?"

"Well I don't know for sure, but it seems scary."

"So did riding a bicycle the first time you did that."

"I appreciate what you're saying Amy, I really do, but even if I were willing to try that, how do we know Daryl would be interested? I mean he never even said he'd like to see me again, all he said was, 'I'll call ya in the mornin' ta make sure your friend got here.' He's just a kind man who took care of me, and now he's done."

"We'll see, maybe he'll call again, maybe he'll even come by sometime. I bet if he could hear you sing he'd fall in love on the spot."

Amy suggests, "In the meantime, I've brought all my sewing things, should we work on that quilt you've got going? Maybe we can finish it this century."

"Very funny, and yes please, let's."

It is wonderful having Amy there, my gosh, Beth can't even imagine what it would have been like if she'd have been alone these past two days. Sure, she could have taken care of herself, it's not like she can't get around at all, but she would have had way too much time alone to think. It breaks her heart a little bit when Amy has to leave, but although her friend is off of work as a schoolteacher this holiday season, Amy does have a commitment to her folks. They bought expensive tickets to the Nutcracker Ballet in Atlanta and the whole family's going tomorrow, "Gosh Amy, I would never keep you from that, and besides, I'm doing just fine. I'll be back to work January 2nd like nothing ever happened."

Daryl's grouchy and miserable and no one who comes in contact with him, customers or staff, has any idea why. They're just giving him plenty of room. No one wants his kind of trouble. They try chocking it all up to the holiday blues, but it seems worse than just that, and besides, he's never had the holiday blues before. Oh well, they're damn sure not going to ask him, and he damn sure wouldn't tell them if they did.

Rosita still hasn't questioned him about why he took down all her Christmas decorations and stuck them in a box in the storeroom. Shoot, it's not even New Year's yet, besides, decorating is her job. Not that she's saying anything to him, whatever is eating at him is making him ornery enough.

He goes home after work and the first thing he does is glance over at his chair, but shit, Beth's not in it. He's got half a mind to hop on his bike and take a ride up to Smithton to see her. Why not? Funny question, why not? Because she'd probably tell him, politely of course because that's who she is, thanks for everything but don't come around again, EVER. So yeah, he won't be going.

Besides, it's not like Beth Greene is the only chick around. If he didn't want to be home alone he could have company. That Leah chick has been after him for months, she doesn't even try to act subtle about it. Between her and that redhead Paula, one of them is in his face and making offers every time they're around. Too bad, he never wanted a thing to do with either one of them, and now that he's met Beth he's positive he never will.

New Year's Eve morning he wakes up feeling even more grumpy and restless that he has all week, shit. He gets to the roadhouse before the swamper, Jim, is even done cleaning. Then he silently asks himself, okay, what are ya gonna do now hotshot?

Fuck this, he's not on the work schedule until five this afternoon, he's got plenty of time to go on a long ride and clear his head. Yeah, that's all he needs to fix this, a good ride. It'll be busy tonight too, New Year's Eve is always a blow out. That'll be good. He'll be so busy working there won't be any time to think about Beth.

He gets on the blacked out Triumph, hits the throttle and the big bike screams down the highway.

Beth's been just miserable and that makes her angry with herself, and that makes her even more miserable. My gosh Beth, get real, what would you do with that man if you had him? Seriously.

She's not usually one to wish away time off from her job, but right now she's practically counting the minutes until she has to get back to the accounting firm where she works. At least at work she'll be forced to focus on something besides Daryl Dixon.

She's never been one to celebrate a big New Year's Eve. She usually has a festive bottle of sparkling apple juice in the fridge, what Amy calls "kid champagne," and a plan of staying up to watch the ball drop, while sipping the fizzy apple juice from her one-and-only fancy stemmed glass. She's never made it. She typically falls asleep an hour or two before that ball ever gets close to dropping.

This year she has no such plan. She wants to be in bed early and sound asleep. She won't be thinking about him if she's asleep, but darn it, he's been haunting her dreams too.

It's just after three in the afternoon this New Year's Eve day, and Beth's desperately trying to give all of her attention to her knew book, until she hears the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle. Oh my gosh, could it be? She hurries to the window and pulls back the curtain, praying it's him. What she sees has her letting out a gasp as she stares in amazement. Amy has her hands on the shoulders of Merle Dixon as she climbs off the back of his bike. Merle climbs off next, they remove their helmets and, oh my gosh, he leans in and softly kisses Amy right on the lips! And Amy smiles!

Beth's still trying to process everything she's just seen when there's a knock on her door. She can't wait to ask Amy at least three hundred questions, and she hurries to open it. Amy and Merle are both all smiles as Amy gives Beth a spontaneous hug and Merle asks, "Hey there little lady, how ya feelin'?"

Beth regains her composure enough to offer them a seat, a snack and beverage, but Merle explains, "Thanks, but we got a dinner reservation up at the Mountain Club, I plan ta be hungry as a bear when I get there. We just wanted ta come see ya, make sure you're doin' okay."

"I am, thank you Merle." Does Daryl care? She feels like she might cry. No Beth, no.

Amy smiles at him and asks, "Could I have a minute with Beth. I want to talk to her about, well, you know…girl stuff."

He already knows exactly what she's going to talk to Beth about and he nods, "Sure thing, I don't wanna be part a any girl talk. You ladies have at it. I'll go on out n admire my bike." He turns to Beth and says, "Little lady, you have yourself a very Happy New Year," leans in and kisses her cheek.

"Thank you Merle, you too."

As soon as the door closes behind him Amy starts, "Beth, you're my best friend in the whole world, you know I love you. I hate to have to scold you, but all this sitting around and crying and sniffling and pining over Daryl Dixon isn't doing you a bit of good, or him either for that matter. I want you to go in there right now, take a shower, put on that pretty pink sweater I got you for Christmas and get yourself down to the roadhouse."

"To the roadhouse? And do what?"

"Walk in there like you belong, go up to him and say, 'Hi Daryl, I just came by to wish you a Happy New Year.' You get that far and I bet he'll take it from there."

"I can't do that Amy, that's a 100 miles outside of my comfort zone. I'd die."

"Oh yeah? Do you think when Merle Dixon showed up at my door this afternoon and said, 'Hey there sweetness, I thought ya might let me help ya ring in the New Year. We'll go for a little ride on my bike, n I'll take ya out for a nice steak dinner. How's that sound?' Do you think I was in my comfort zone for gosh sake? What he offered sounded like something I wouldn't agree to in a million years. Shoot, I don't even know him. Not really."

"I can't tell you exactly why it was, but something made me stop and think for a minute before I just turned him down. Gosh, I have never just done something daring, something so different. I'll admit something else, just him being 'him' did sway me. I happen to think he's very manly and handsome, and I was flattered that he wants to take me out. So, you know what Beth? I stepped 100 miles outside my dumb comfort zone and said, 'I'd like that very much,' and here I am now." She places her hands on Beth's shoulders and implores, "Let yourself take a chance Beth, it could turn out to be the best thing you ever did, and if it's not, what have you lost? Not one darn thing, that's what."

"I'll think about it."

"Beth, the fact that you ever even met Daryl is kind of a miracle, right? And you know, they say things happen for a reason. Maybe you were always supposed to meet him, and now that you have, maybe you're supposed to do something about that." Amy's smile grows when she adds, "There's a plan for everything Beth."

As soon as she hears the roar of the engine fade, Beth plops herself down on the couch. Maybe Amy's right, maybe Daryl was put in her path for a reason, maybe as unlikely as it seems, he's her person, and she's meant to follow through.

Gosh though, it will be so embarrassing to walk in that place, she's bound to stick out like a sore thumb. There's also a chance he'll shrug her off, "Yeah, thanks for stoppin' by and Happy New Year ta you too. I'm glad you're doin' better. See ya." Okay, so that's worse case scenario. If it happens that way, she'll just smile, "Bye, bye" hurry out to her car and cry all the way home. She was probably going to cry tonight anyway, so Amy's right, there really is nothing to lose.

He rides the big bike right up close to his shop door, gets off and rolls it inside. It was a good ride, his head is clear and he has a plan. He's got to work tonight, shit no one who works at Dirty Dixon's gets New Year's Eve off, but tomorrow they're closed while they all take the day to recover. Not him, he'll be riding to Beth's place. Maybe, just maybe she'll invite him in to talk.

Yep, that's his New Year's resolution. He's going to quit being a chickenshit dumb ass. The worst thing that can happen is she'll tell him to go fuck himself. No, she'd say something like, "I'm sorry Daryl, you're just a little too wild for me, and you cuss a lot."

He rolls the shop door down and heads in the house, he's got 45 minutes until he has to be at the roadhouse. He's going to put a big ass chicken in the crockpot, take a shower and be on his way. He's actually looking forward to it. The bar will be so busy his night will fly by, and the faster it goes by, the sooner tomorrow comes, and when tomorrow comes, he's going to see Beth.

Now that she's made her decision she's in a big hurry. She has to hurry, otherwise she might change her mind. She takes a fast shower, puts on a little mascara and a little bit of blush, dresses in the cozy pink sweater Amy gave her, along with a pair of boyfriend jeans Maggie gave her last Christmas. She's never worn them, she didn't much care for the full legs, now they're perfect. They won't fit tight on her knees like her skinny jeans do. The last thing she does is fix her hair, and she's actually kind of happy with how it looks. For once, she's been able to tame her curls into a pretty cute style.

That's it, she's got to get out of here before there's any more time to think. She grabs her small purse and she's out the door and in her car, making the ten mile drive to Dirty Dixon's.

Gee whiz, it's only twenty minutes to five and the lot is already filled with intimidating looking motorcycles of every kind, and equally menacing looking pickup trucks. Amy's words play over and over in her head, "take a chance, take a chance." She tells herself, deep breath Beth, deep breath. None of these people are going to hurt you, and you can leave as soon as you see Daryl. Or maybe, he'll be glad to see you.

She walks to the front door where she's greeted by a redheaded mountain of a man who smiles and says, "Well ain't you a fresh dream. Head on in honey."

She nods thank you and walks right to the bar. She hears the catcalls and the suggestive things some of the men are saying, but she does her best to ignore them. When she gets up to the bar, the bartender, another giant of a man, dark-haired and with a friendly demeanor, says, "Hey there you, what's your poison?"

The catcalling and the comments continue as she says, "Oh um, just a 7-Up please. I'm actually here to see Daryl."

He could tell her, well a lot of chicks are here to see Daryl, that doesn't mean he wants to see them. Instead he says, "Oh yeah? Daryl huh? Well Daryl will be here in about five minutes. I'll get ya that 7-Up, but try not to get too out of control."

Her tummy is so tied up in knots she's afraid to even take a sip. She's also super curious and she tries to be little sneaky and have a look around the place. It seems like mostly a bunch of men in leather jackets, boots, jeans and with chains hanging from their pockets. There are women too, most of them wearing some sort of halter top, leather seems popular, and jeans that hit way below they're belly button, way below. The men and women alike all seem to have an abundance of tattoos. And oh, my. Her white sneakers are no match for their boots with stiletto heels. She really doesn't belong.

Men keep coming up to her offering to buy her drinks and asking questions, and saying things she wishes they wouldn't, and she tries to politely tell them, "I'm just here to see a friend." Some of them have a hard time taking "no" for an answer, but between the bartender, who she now knows is named Jerry, and the doorman who she now knows is named Abe, no one pushes too hard. Thank God because she would simply die.

She finally takes a small sip from the straw, and that's when a strong arm wraps around her and pulls her close. Oh no, now what? She turns to look and it's him. Oh thank you God, it's him and he's saying, "Hey Baby, what're ya doin' here?"

She smiles up at him, "I came to tell you Happy New Year."

He's smiling now too, "Oh yeah, well I'm glad ya did, and I hope ya stay. I gotta work now though, but I can take ya up ta the house and I'll see ya there when I get off."

What's come over her, she has no idea, but she answers, "I can just stay here with you if that's okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

This little interlude has not been lost on Dirty Dixon's clientele. The catcalls have abruptly ended, there are no more suggestive remarks. They all have a lot of questions like, who is this fresh-faced little cupcake who has all of Daryl Dixon's attention? Is she the reason he's been in such a foul mood all week? She must have broken his heart and now she's here to make up. Yeah, that must be it. She must be his lady, damn, they've never seen a smile like that on Dixon's face, never.

Two things are sure, they'll never ask him, and he'll never tell them.

He sets a stool at the far end of the bar, clasps her waist with powerful hands and easily lifts her onto it, "How's them knees?"

She smiles, "They're so much better and I'm getting around pretty good."

"Good, that's real good. You can sit here, and if ya get tired or bored or sumthin', lemme know. Jerry can handle the bar long enough for me ta take ya ta my place."

Beth decides it's time for her to make her feelings known, "Okay, I will, but I think I'm going to have fun just sitting here watching everyone, and being so close to you Daryl. That's why I came here, to be with you."

Daryl let's his feelings be known too, but not with words. Any questions about his feelings that Beth, the staff, or the clientele might have, are all answered when his open hand sweeps softly along her cheek and he grasps a handful of blonde curls, as he leans in and kisses her with so much passion she's glad he's hanging on or she'd tip over for sure.

A/N Happy New Year! I hope you get a kiss as good as Beth got. Please leave a comment. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs, gneebee and bethylmethbrick, please have a look. I'll be back next week with a little more of The Accidental Christmas. Here's to a wonderful 2024 for all of us, and remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee