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It was a general knowledge that when a Greene girl was upset-i.e. pissed off-they tended to do some crazy things. Maggie Greene, the eldest and well known firecracker of the two girls, had a number of such nights under her belt. The eve she had caught her high school boyfriend cheating on her with a cheerleader, the eldest Greene girl had gone a wild drinking binge and had ended up smashing in the windows of the boy's shining new Ford. When she had been thrown out of college she had drank her way through several bottles of Jack and awoken the next morning with a tattoo just above her ass.
Oh how the town would go on and on about wild Maggie Greene, and bless the heavens that good old sweet Beth was nothing like her wild sister. The face of an angel, and a voice to match, with a smile that could chase away the storm clouds in August. No one in little Senoia saw what was coming their way when Beth was jilted by Jimmy Kavanagh, her fiance of a year, and her high school sweetheart.
And as it would happen gay.
Beth wasn't mad at Jimmy, no, not really. It wasn't him that drove her all the way to the shittiest bar in town, where all the white trash of Georgia seemed to gather. Nope, it was that damn white satin dress hanging in her closet and the last three years of her life gone and wasted. Beth couldn't look at it and if she sat in her room for one more minute an nine-hundred dollar dress was going to reduced to ash. So Beth had dressed in her favorite pair of high-waisted cutoff shorts, a crop top blouse, pulling her hair back in a ponytail with a single braid. She'd walked into The Shine Shake like she owned the place, her confident fuck-with-me-and-die sashay caught the eye of every male in the bar.
Including one Daryl Dixon.
Standing against the far wall of the bar, lost in the swirling blanket of cigarette smoke, his own tucked between his lips as he inhaled slowly, a pool stick taking the brunt of his weight as he leaned on it. His heavy lidded blue eyes following her journey from the door to the bar-taking in the creamy smooth length of her legs and the way her shorts hugged her tight ass-where she took up a bar stool and preceded to frown at the drinks on the blackboard. Daryl stamped out his cigarette murmuring an excuse to Bob as he made his way towards the little blond.
"Whatchya doing here girl," he asked her, as he took up the seat next to her, motioning to Dale to bring him a beer.
The girl regarded him curiously, Daryl was a bit surprised she didn't turn up her nose at the sight of his filthy redneck ass.
"Well, it is a bar so I guess I'm here for a drink," she remarked with a saucy little smile as she returned her gaze to the black board, just as Dale placed a bottle of Corona in front of him.
Daryl snorted as he reached into the breast pocket of his sleeveless shirt to pull out a cigarette. "Ya don't look old enough to drive, kid."
It was Beth's turn to snort as she glanced back to him as he lit up. "And you look too old to be killing yourself with cigarettes, old man."
Daryl almost choked as he inhaled from the smoke. He eyed the girl heatedly not sure if wanted to bend her over his knee of kiss the shit out of her till she wasn't smirking no more. Either option worked for him.
"Smartass," he huffed as he drew on his cigarette.
"I'm twenty-two," Beth said with a small smile. "S'Just never been to a bar before."
Daryl studied the little blond at his side with open curiosity. "You ever even had a drink 'fore?"
Beth chose not to answer, simply stared ahead.
"Take that as a 'no'," Daryl drawled with a smirk as he tapped the end of the cigarette on the glass ashtray.
"I actually came here just to drink," Beth said sourly.
"I don't see ya doing much drinking, sunshine," he chuckled as he took a swig of his beer.
Beth pointed ignored him as she gave Dale a sweet as pie smile. "I'll have a glass of . . . peach schnapps."
How bad could something with peaches in it be, Beth figured.
"Hell naw," Daryl muttered as he tore the cigarette from his lips, stamping it out in the ashtray. "Nuh uh Dale, bring 'er some shine."
Beth stared at the man incredulously, a line furrowing between her brows. "I can order my own drink-"
"Ain't 'bout to let your first drink be no damn peach schnapps." He growled before taking a long swallow of beer. "Sissy drink n' tastes like ass."
Beth huffed. "I don't even know you!"
"Daryl Dixon," He shrugged. "Now ya do."
Beth just sat there fuming silently. Jimmy had never been so . . . so . . . pig headed!
"You ain't gunna tell me yer name? I just bought you a drink and introduced myself all polite like. Your momma never teach ya any manners?" Daryl goaded the little blond, his satisfaction growing as the little crease in her forehead deepened and her cheeks burned a rosy hue.
"Beth," she all but spat at him. "And don't talk about my mother."
Beth. Simple, plain. Didn't quite match the girl next to him with the platinum hair and the fiery sapphire eyes. But some way Daryl couldn't imagine calling her anything else.
"Why ya here anyway, Beth," he asked, testing her name on his tongue, enjoying the sound. "Ain't your usual place."
"Why is it you talk like you know me? I came here to drink, that's all," Beth huffed, turning away from him pointedly staring at the back wall of decorative bottles.
"Ya stick out like a sore thumb in 'ere princess," Daryl chuckled as he fiddled with his beer. "Girl like you . . . you like dinners and frozen yogurt, pony rides and all that shit. You don't come to redneck bars for a drink."
Beth sighed heavily, her crystal blue eyes meeting his stormy ones. "Thought I'd try something new . . . something less me and more what my sister would do," Beth explained. "And I don't like frozen yogurt, I'm an ice cream girl."
Daryl just smirked, lifting his beer to his lips to take a sip. "What so special 'bout your sister?"
It was Beth's turn to snort. "She's Maggie Greene for one."
Daryl almost choked on his beer. Beth just giggled as she leaned forward, bracing her arms on the cool surface of the bar.
Everyone had heard of Maggie Greene, just as everyone had heard of the Dixon brothers. Maggie Greene was infamous for different reasons. The girl was a hell raiser, with a sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude. When she settled down with the soft spoken, kindhearted Asian pizza delivery boy everyone was stunned. Half the town had expected she'd get knocked up by some biker and have a shotgun wedding. Though no one said a word out of respect of Hershel.
Daryl had never heard a peep about a second Greene girl. As he studied the girl sitting next to him it was no wonder. Maggie and Beth were polar opposites in looks and mannerisms. He'd seen Maggie a time or two around the Shine Shack during her tirades. Girl was a hurricane with long legs, and flawless tanned skin in tank tops and ripped jeans. Short brown hair that she wore down more often than not, and green eyes that could light a man on fire.
Daryl didn't mess with Maggie.
If Maggie was a hurricane, Beth was a summer storm in July. Sunshine hair and creamy skin, eyes that put the sky to shame. Even if she was a smart ass, there was something sweet in her smile. Daryl couldn't help but be reminded of a little kitten the way she tried to be scrappy with him.
"Who's the bastard that did ya wrong?" He asked.
Beth sighed. "Not his fault, not really. He can't help if I got the wrong bits."
Daryl stared at her. "What?"
"I was engaged. And my fiance just figured out that he, ehm, likes men."
Daryl kept quiet as he processed this. Fuck, that was . . . fuck.
"Sorry."
"Thank you, I guess," Beth laughed. "I'm not sure if sorry is really the right thing to say though. I just . . . I had to get out. If I stared at my wedding dress for another minute, I would've burned it."
At that moment, Dale arrived with a mason jar of moonshine, placing it in front of the blond, who stared at the alcohol as if it were a dangerous snake. Daryl chuckled as he took his beer back in hand, taking another swallow.
"Well, go on now. Drink up."
"You're not having any?" Beth asked him, glancing towards his beer.
Daryl smirked, motioning for Dale to bring him his own glass. Dale slid an identical jar towards Daryl, who took it holding it up for Beth to see.
"Ya happy? You gonna drink now or we gonna braid each other's hair?"
Beth snorted as she imagined Daryl with little braids woven in his dark locks.
"A toast," she said holding up her own jar. "To . . . to new beginnings. And forgetting the past."
"I'll drink to that," Daryl said as he clanked his jar against her own.
Beth watched through her lashes as Daryl brought the glass to his lips and took a deep hearty swallow of the clear liquid. Licking her lips, Beth did the same. The moment the shine touched her tongue she was marked by the bitterness, followed by the dry burn it made as it slithered down her throat. Beth swallowed hard, grimacing as it continued to burn its way inside her.
"That's disgusting," she coughed.
Daryl just grinned. "Y'll get used to it."
Beth eyed him as he continued to drink, turning back to her own glass, taking a more tentative sip.
It was going to be a long night she was sure.
.
.
.
Beth moaned into her pillow as blinding sunlight beat against her closed lids. She rolled away from the intruding light, a painful thumping banging around in her head at the sudden motion. With a pathetic moan, Beth buried her face in her pillow, willing the sun to fade away so she could sleep 'til she died.
'M never drinking again, she vowed.
All Beth wanted was to bury herself into the safety of her bed and never leave it. It was only when a deep male sigh sounded from her side that Beth stiffened as a strong arm wound its way around her waist. Beth shot up in the bed, ignoring the sickening lurch of her gut and the sharp pain in her head as she gazed around at the unfamiliar space. It looked like a motel room. And not just a motel but a cheesy one with faded flower print wall paper, 70's decor furniture, and a shag carpet. Swallowing heavily Beth glanced down at herself and almost threw up. She was wearing her wedding dress, the layers of tulle bunched rumpled, her cowboy boots still on her feet.
Beth touched her aching head, noting that a headband was resting haphazardly there. She pulled it free, her eyes running over the plastic tiara with its shinny plastic stones BRIDE spelled out in cursive. Beth's eyes caught her left hand, where a ring rested on her third finger.
Her ring finger.
She drew her hand to close, examining the ring with wide eyed horror. It was plastic with a heart in the center, something you could get out of a quarter machine at the grocery store.
Her heart pounding loudly in her chest, Beth finally glanced down to the man at her side. Laying on his back, fully dressed in the ripped sleeveless shirt and holey jeans she'd met him in, Daryl was fast asleep.
Oh my god, Beth thought.
"D-Daryl?" Beth whispered, reaching out hesitantly to touch his bare shoulder.
Her fingers had barely grazed him when his eyes shot open and he stared up at Beth in confusion. He squeezed his eyes shut shaking his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"The fuck," he groaned as he opened his eyes once again.
"That's what I'd like to know," Beth said in bemusement.
That seemed to shatter the last reminiscence of sleep from the redneck's tired mind. He shot forward, blue eyes scanning the motel room quickly, before his gaze returned to Beth, a rumpled vision in white.
"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed as he shot from the bed like a bullet, tripping over the covers as they tangled around his legs.
Beth winced at his raised voice, cradling her head in her hands. "Please, please, whisper. My head feels like a thousand little road workers with jack hammers are going to town on it."
"What the fuck happened last night?!" Daryl exclaimed, shoving his hands in his hair. "Where the fuck are we?"
"Daryl, please," Beth implored as she attempted to rise from the bed. "I don't know what happened. I'm just as confused as you are. We're gunna figure it out just . . . just please calm down."
Daryl bit back a curse as he stopped his pacing, grabbing a hold of the door frame of the bathroom.
"Beth," he breathed in deeply, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. "Why you wearing a weddin' dress?"
Beth looked back down at her dress, the very one she had planned wearing to her wedding to Jimmy.
"I don't know," Beth whispered. "But something tells me we weren't playing dress-up."
Daryl cursed again, burying his head in his hands.
Just then the door to the motel opened, revealing a man in his fifties with a buzz cut, a brown paper bag in his hands. A sly smirk slid across his face when he caught sight of them.
"Well, looky here, the newlyweds are up," he chuckled. "Y'all sleep okay?"
Beth felt panic swelling up in her gut as she looked from Daryl to the stranger. Newlyweds?
"Merle what the fuck happened last night?!" Daryl demanded as he stomped towards the man.
"Y-you know him?" Beth asked, not sure if she should be a little relieved.
"He's my brother, soon to be a dead brother if he don't start talkin'," the man growled.
The man-Merle-snickered. "Ain't nice to threaten yer kin in front of the missus, Darylina, I know I taught ya better than that."
"You . . . you keep saying that," Beth croaked. "Newlyweds . . . missus . . . we didn't really . . . ."
"Y'all really don' remember? Daryl here called me up near the shit crack of dawn talkin' bout meeting the prettiest girl he's ever seen," Merle winked at Beth, causing both Beth and Daryl to turn red. "Going on and on about how this was it and asked me to tag along for the ride. Was a real show too."
"Stop fucking around Merle, or I swear to god I'll kick your ass from here to Texas," Daryl growled.
"Chill your titties, Darylina," Merle smirked, unaffected by his brother's threats.
Beth swallowed deeply as she moved forward. "So, you came to the bar and then what happened?"
"Well, we had ta swing by yer place to grab your dress-ya said you didn't wanna waste it-so we grabbed that and after that we hopped a plane and here we are."
"P-plane?" Beth asked. "We're not in Georgia?"
"Hell naw, we's in Vegas, sweet cheeks," Merle grinned.
Vegas. The ground beneath Beth's feet seemed to shift and she made a mad dash for the bathroom, making it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach in the toilet.
.
.
.
It turned out Merle had commemorated the whole night on Beth's phone, filming the whole thing. After Daryl had thrown his brother from the motel room, he and Beth had sat on the bed, a respectable distance apart, pressing play. Beth and Daryl had watched in silent disbelief as they stumbled up red carpeted aisle towards Chinese Elvis who married them in heavy accented English pronouncing them husband and wife. Beth turned off her phone licking her lips as her mind turned.
She was married. To a stranger. She'd married a stranger after getting drunk for the first time in her life.
Well, I doubt Maggie could top this, she thought wryly.
Beth glanced towards Daryl who hadn't said a thing through the whole video. The man looked like a mess.
"Daryl," Beth asked, drawing his attention towards her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just peachy fucking keen," he growled. "How the fuck did this happen, Beth?"
"Well, if you've forgotten we can watch the video again," she huffed.
Daryl gave the little blond something akin to a death glare. "Stop."
"It's not the end of the world Daryl. Nothing happened last night-"
"Ring on your damn finger says a lot of shit happened last night, girl," he snapped.
"-we can get an annulment if that's what we want." Beth finished pointedly.
"Yeah, god forbid ya get stuck with a redneck piece of shit like me for the rest of your life," he sneered.
"Daryl Dixon!" she hissed, jumping to her feet, planting herself firmly before him. "That is not it and you know it!"
"Admit it, you hate the fact that it was me ya woke up next to," he spat, his hands balling into fists as he stood, stomping around the room as his fury and frustration grew.
"You're acting like an idiot, Daryl," Beth said. "I never said that! You're the one who's acting like an idiot."
Daryl growled, shaking his head at her.
"Daryl-"
He rounded on her suddenly cutting her off, his hands coming up to cup her face, pulling her towards him. His name died on her tongue as she stared up at him in surprise blue eyes wide. Suddenly Beth was keenly aware of the Irish soap on Daryl's skin mingling with the scent of leather from his vest and something that was simply Daryl. His darker blue eyes roamed her face briefly before his mouth captured hers' without warning. The kiss was hard, punishing, a tangle of tongues and a clash of teeth. Daryl wasn't sure why he'd done it, maybe to silent the voices ringing in his head, accusing him of being a dirty old man and a thousand other things. Maybe he just wanted to have a clear memory of how soft and pliant Beth's lips were beneath his. As his tongue ran across her own, he relished the taste of her-strawberries and honey, and the little gasps she made when his teeth captured her bottom lip, tugging it a little less than what could be considered gentle.
Maybe he just wanted to. He honestly didn't care at the moment.
Beth stumbled forward as Daryl's hands left her face, one arm winding around her waist, pulling her body hard against his. Their chests and waists bumped and rubbed, the mixed sensations stealing Beth's breath away. When Daryl pulled away Beth's eyes were heavy lidded, her lips delightfully swollen from his lips. Daryl was breathing hard, his breaths shallow.
He shook his head as he let his hands fall away from her. This wasn't right. A guy like him didn't have a right to make her look like this-all sexy and rumpled, begging for more. He didn't deserve someone like Beth Greene. Daryl avoided her gaze as he shouldered his way past her and stomped out of the motel room, the door slamming loudly behind him.
Beth stood there dumbfounded for several moments before she fell onto the bed in a mindless heap.
She had no idea why the tears wouldn't stop.
.
.
.
Daryl found himself out by the pool, because honestly he was in Vegas and he didn't have a clue where the hell he could go. He stared blindly into the water, replaying the kiss in his mind over and over, the sinking feeling in his gut growing every time.
Why the fuck did he have to go and kiss her? Bad enough he'd married her.
"Whatchya doing out here little brother?"
Daryl doesn't bother to glance up as Merle makes his way towards him. He just continues to stare into the placid pool, trying to sort through his mess of a life.
"Shouldn't ya be up stairs gettin' acquainted with your wife," Merle teased with a pointed smirk.
"Shut the fuck up, Merle! Bet you're having the time of yer life," Daryl snarled as he shoved himself to his feet. "Laughing it up 'cause I've gone and fucked up big now!"
All laughter fled the eldest Dixon brother's expression as he eyed his brother.
"Way I see it, Darylina, ya've done the smartest thing in your whole life," he said quietly.
Daryl turned on his brother, staring at him incredulously. "What?"
"That girl up there . . . she's good down to her toes. She ain't said one rude thing to me, even last night when she was lit like the fourth of July, she was all smiley and sweet to me. As I's see it, the only way you're fucking up is if you let that girl go."
Daryl stared at Merle in utter disbelief. "Ya can't be serious-Merle, she-I ain't good enough for her, no way in hell. What kind of life can I give her? A shake in the woods and living paycheck to paycheck? What I'm gunna do when you decide it's time to move on? Can't just uproot her, Georgia's her home, her life's there. She ain't nothing like us, Merle."
"So? If you was smart you'd make this thing work. Girls like her . . . they don't come around often, little brother," and with that Merle stomped off, more than likely to gamble away money he didn't have.
Daryl sat there along time before he stood up and made his way back to the room. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he turned and faced the door, staring at the gold plated numbers for a long time, as though they had some kind of answers for him. With a heavy sigh, he eased the door open.
Beth had stopped crying by the time Daryl had returned. She was being foolish. She didn't know Daryl from Adam, and despite the kiss she had no right to feel sad that he didn't want to give their . . . marriage-she still had trouble believing it-a chance.
She wasn't sure when she realized that she wanted to give this crazy marriage a chance. Maybe it was the thought of never seeing Daryl again. Or perhaps, she admitted, as she scrolled through all the photos Merle had taken in her camera roll, that it was she never recalled looking as happy as she did with Daryl stumbling down the aisle in the three years she'd spent with Jimmy. She smiled as she continued to scroll through the photos, studying every last one closely. How Daryl stood close to her, one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, supporting her, protecting her.
She wanted that.
When Daryl entered their room she plastered a smile on her face and hoped he didn't notice the puffiness around her eyes. When he knelt down in front of her on his knees, Beth was taken aback, frowning at him.
"Daryl-"
"Lemme, say what I got to say 'fore I change my mind," he huffed, cutting her off.
Beth stifled a sigh. The redneck seemed to enjoy cutting her off mid-sentence.
"I ain't got much. Don't know why'd you wanna try and make this work with us but . . . if you really want to . . . I'll put in an effort."
Of all the things Beth had thought he'd say that was most certainly not on the list.
"Daryl," Beth began, hesitantly reaching out and taking his hand in hers'. "I know I sound crazy but . . . I like you. I don't know if it's the best idea to try and make this work for us, but none the less I want to."
"It's crazy, trust me," Daryl muttered. "Why ya ain't dragging me to the nearest courthouse to get a divorce or whatever is beyond me."
Beth chuckled at the image that popped into her mind at his words. "Well, legally we might be married but for now . . . we can just say we're . . . I don't know dating. We can just figure out if we want this."
Daryl nodded silently, not really looking at her as he bit into the pad of his thumb. Beth shifted on the bed slightly, biting her bottom lip gently.
"Do you believe in fate, Daryl? Or destiny?"
"Naw, why?" Daryl asked gazing at her with hooded eyes.
"I can't help but think that all this happened for a reason. Jimmy, me going to the bar, you coming to talk to me, this," she motioned to the room around them. "I have a feeling it was just . . . meant to be."
Daryl snorted. "Fate gave ya the short end of the stick then."
Beth just shook her head at the man. She'd have to work on his optimism. "So, what changed your mind?"
"What," he asked his brow scrunching up as he looked at her, he looked kinda of cute it made Beth smile.
"What changed your mind? I'm curious."
Daryl just shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.
Daryl just looked at her, his dark blue eyes boring into her soul.
"You know."
Beth blinked once as she felt her heart stutter in her chest, her mouth falling open in surprise.
"Oh."